My brother died during the Omicron surge.
I couldn't be with him
I couldn't say good-bye
It was so different than when my eldest brother died in 2019
Three years later and everything had changed
He was the brother I could go to when things were wrong
who was that immovable object I could hold on to
who had battled some of his demons and gave me hope
who had been there my whole life and loved me
I often thought of my brothers as the warp threads
of my life especially since our parents died
I imagined my life with four strong warp threads as I
the weft, haphazardly wove myself around them
As each brother died I imagined a warp being cut
Who am I without them?
Will I unravel completely?
When would the other two detach?
Months have passed
I officiated a second time at a sibling’s memorial
I have cried more tears than I can count
I considered unraveling - how could I hold myself
together with so much death - COVID and brothers
But I am still standing as they say
I have not unraveled
I still have my four strong warp threads even
two are not physically present
My misunderstanding was that there were only four warps
that the weft of my life was only me
I have countless warps of ancestors
I have countless wefts - spouse and children
grandchildren and friends
The weaving is incomplete
imperfect in many areas
spots where there is fraying
My brothers remain
always part of my tapestry
always strong and flawed
Always there.
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