Guilt

I don't know why my brother's death seems to be affecting me more than I would have thought it should.  I mean, honestly, I haven't seen him in maybe 25 or so years.... I have these memories of him when we visited Germany, he was always really happy. He liked to pick my nose... that'a a silly thing to remember. I feel that sometimes I feel other people's pain too much. Somehow I can kind of put myself in their shoes too much. I can't say that I have ever been right about how people feel, but I can imagine the pain that Peter was in. His mother left him as a child to go off with a man to another country.  Even if it was his decision to stay, I couldn't imagine having my mother leave me... then to find your grandmother, who raised you, dead on the kitchen floor.... marriage, 2 kids, divorce... then to find out that your mother had a sister that she gave up and you never knew about.  That your mother was pregnant and she hid it from everyone and then gave birth in secret and just gave the baby away....and then to finally hear that your mother died... that's a lot... a lot for any one person to go through. Mentally taxing

More time

You always think that you have more time than you really do.  I thought that I would be able to reconnect somehow with my brother... it is a little harder than picking up the phone as we speak a different language and he lives in a different country.  I tried a few years back when my mother died, to get in contact with him... I am in contact with his daughter and son.... but apparently he wasn't in contact with them either. I thought I had time.... time that I could compose some sort of message and get an email or something...  but I found out last week that he died... alone... just a shitty way to go... it's upset me quite a bit, I have these images in my head... and the more I think about it the more elaborate the images become..