Hi Janet:
I lost my youngest brother when he was 22 years old. Not to addiction, but to a lightening strike. So I know the hole that losing a sibling can leave in your heart. It seems especially difficult to accept when we lose them so young and they had their whole lives ahead of them.
Often, I wonder why he left this world so suddenly and if there was a much higher plan in motion for him or if it was just a tragic twist of fate. More often, I wonder why he was short-changed, and why, at 45, I've now been blessed with a life twice as long as his. I think of all the things that I've experienced in life that were stripped away from him. He'll never find a wife, have children, buy his first home, have grandchildren. It seems so sensless and unfair. And while the pain fades a bit over time, it's always there, and the void can never be filled. There was only person in this world like my brother, and I'm grateful for those 22 years. I'm grateful I was able to share my life with him. And I'm grateful that my last words to him were "I love you," as he dashed out the door, never to be seen again.
On August 14th, I lost my father--just two weeks after he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. And while there was little time to say goodbye, at least I had a chance to tell him I loved him one more time. In fact, my father's last words to me were "You're beautiful, and I love you, and you look especially pretty in pink."
There's no guarantee that there will be a tomorrow--for ourselves, our children, our siblings, our parents--all the people we love. And that's why every day, without fail, I tell the people I hold dear that I love them. I learned that from my dad.