My brother, Jeff, and I were like twins growing up: 17 months apart and inseparable, even though
there were 6 siblings in our family. When I was 25 and he was 26, he died of Kaposis' Sarcoma, due to
AIDS. It was a big shock, not that I didn't know he was gay, he'd come out to me years before and of course
since we were close, he knew I accepted him and loved him, but I hadn't even known he was sick until shortly before he was diagnosed. He died only days after being diagnosed. He was in so much pain. It was terrible. I can't even tell you how bad it was to be with him those last days. I was with him the day he died and that last picture is in my head forever. Still, I'm glad I could be there when he was in the hospital to comfort him. I didn't grieve hardly at all, I was going through a divorce at the time and had a two year old and a baby, was working full time. My parents pretended he didn't have AIDS and told their friends he just died of cancer. The other siblings don't talk about him. (This is how I was raised, you don't talk about intense feelings much.) So...I put a lot of these painful feelings away, and didn't realize until this past year, when I was going through other stresses, that there was even something called delayed grief. The pain has been overwhelming. I am going through counseling with a really good therapist who is helping, but I am dreading my brother's death anniversary date that is coming up February 27th. It is always an extremely difficult month for me. I am especially dreading it this year. I had been doing better with a depression lately but the past two days I started crying just thinking about my brother. I miss him so much. He was my best friend in the world and no one can ever replace him. On top of everything else, I have guilt feelings that I didn't do enough to help him get diagnosed earlier, since I am a nurse. It has been so many years since he died but it feels like just yesterday.