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On the 22nd of this month it’ll be nine months since my brother died. Nine months. Honestly it still feels like yesterday. I hate that the days continue, moving further away from him. Resuming life has felt wrong.

I’ve relived that day over and over so many times. I remember every detail; the most heartbreaking bit was having to tell our mom, her gut wrenching wail still haunts me. I have such a tremendous ache in my chest that will never go away. Grieving him is all I have left, as painful as this ache is, I don’t want it to ever ease up.

I love all my siblings, but Johnny was different. He was so remarkable, genuine and kind. His heart was full up with so much love for everyone but himself. My brother struggled with major depressive disorder. His demon dug their claws in deep and never let up. My only solace in this, is he is now a free soul.

Twenty-eight days after checking out of rehab my brother died from a Fentanyl overdose. My sisters and I lost our brother, our mother lost her only son and Willow lost her father; whom she never even met because she was born five weeks after he died.

What an unbelievable loss you are Johnny. If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.

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