When my best friend's mother died, I watched her go through the tunnel of loss. It's a helpless feeling, to watch. But having lived through it myself, I could look her in the eye. People often call you brave when you're in the tunnel, as if you had a choice.
The day my dad died was the strangest day of my life, and it broke me. I was only 29. Years later, when I lost my mom, the dark cloud of her followed me for a year. Now, I’ve lost my brother—my gifted, frustrating, inspiring, angry and passionate brother.
Loss is isolating and surreal. You wander through days, out of body. As in an Escher drawing, you are the figure repeating into itself. You're a body in the Matrix. You rise each day, you move, and it really does feel as if you could jump off a building and live.
