In just a few hours, it will be seven years since Anthony died.
A couple of weeks ago, it was the first anniversary of my brother, Mark’s death.
I had plenty of words to say about Anthony after he died because his death, at 81, with advanced Parkinsons disease + dementia, was expected.
Maybe I was in denial about Mark. After all, he had survived, and even thrived, after brain cancer surgery. I thought my little/big brother was going to be okay.
I have plenty to say about Mark – his life and his death, but I can’t find adequate words; I can’t write, blog, reminisce.
Decades ago, well before Anthony and I married, teenage Mark bumped into Ants at a pub and asked for $20. Anthony obliged of course.
Mark and Anthony are perhaps having a laugh, perhaps commiserating about us, remembering us as we remember them.
jmgoyder 