Death is life

In the 24 short years I have been alive I have had three family members pass away. Not the great aunt or 3rd cousin twice removed kind of family but the dad, half brother, grandfather kind of family.

When I was 7 my dad passed away at the age of 35 from a stroke that basically destroyed has brain, or as I was told by a very friendly doctor, even if he woke from the coma he was in, he probably wouldn’t remember me or anyone, a vegetable is the term I think people generally use. When my dad died my life ended, the depression started and grew as time went on.

When I was 23 my half brother passed away at the age of 21 from suicide, was told at night after having just finished work, broke down walking home from work.

3 days before my 24 birthday and only 5/6 months after my half brother’s death, my grandfather passed away from ‘cancer’ (it was undiagnosed but the doctors were pretty certain that it was cancer due to the ‘masses’ found in his body)

I would go into more detail but I feel they deserve their own posts, and if I write more now I’ll probably break down.


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