I've been meaning to talk about my brother, Ian, for a long time. It's not an easy topic. And I'm sorry this is really long. Let's start with the end. Suicide. Cremation. His ashes interred with a rubber Bullwinkle; "Eeek!"…
I’ve been meaning to talk about my brother, Ian, for a long time.
It’s not an easy topic. And I’m sorry this is really long.
Let’s start with the end. Suicide. Cremation. His ashes interred with a rubber Bullwinkle; “Eeek!” he’d have said, “A moose!”
That’s the easy part of the story. For the rest I have to reach back to my earliest childhood, and to a time I’ve blocked completely from my memory as children will with tragedy.