But in that moment I understood what they say about nostalgia, that no matter if you’re thinking of something good or bad, it always leaves you a little emptier afterward.
I can’t seem to be a pessimist long enough to overlook the possibility of things being overwhelmingly good.
Not only had my brother disappeared, but–and bear with me here–a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.
We’ve learned from this that death can hurt us. It can surprise us. It can scare us. It can keep us up a night. But we’ve also learned the things that death cannot do. It cannot crush our hopes. It cannot take away the love and support of our family and friends. It cannot make us lose our unending faith in world and in God. It has saddened us, but it will not prevail.