This is a tough month for me.
On February 3rd, thirty-five years ago, my brother, 31, was killed by a hit and run drunk driver. And last year, during the first three months of the year, my mother came to the end of her life.
I find myself thinking about my brother, wondering how so many years flew by since his death—a lifetime of missed moments. And this year, as I come closer to the first anniversary of my mother’s passing, I realize how much I miss her. Her birthday is just around the corner.
Fifteen years earlier, I promised my mother I would spend every birthday... Read More