Loss and guilt are weighing heavy on my heart today. Last night I spent almost an hour in my apartment with my brother, sitting and crying.
Our uncle Gord died on Tuesday.
This is such a cruel, cruel injustice. He wasn't old. He wasn't sick. He wasn't in karmic debt. He was a good, good man, the love of my auntie Kelly's life, surrogate father to her children, a loving and supportive keystone in a family plagued by misfortune and loss, designated driver par excellence. He got up for work on Tuesday morning, when the crash of him hitting the living room floor awoke my aunt. He had a massive heart attack. Paramedics guess that he was dead before he hit the floor.
You don't know what to do when this happens. When you are away from a home filled with grieving people. I wish I wasn't in this foreign city, numbing me.
Gord was an amazing man who I loved very much, and I can't believe this has happened.
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