Featured Post

Introduction by Amanda Held Opelt

  “He was my North, my South, my East, and West…” From W.H. Auden’s “Funeral Blues” Growing up, I spent plenty of sleepless nights worri...

Thursday, December 23, 2021

"Longer would have been nicer" Guest Post by Anne Williams

 

You don’t grow up expecting your younger brother to die, even when you’re told to expect it. You don’t live your life waiting for the grief. You just live.

I was only three and a half when James was born, I already had one brother, so was fairly disgusted with my parents for handing me another. I told them they had to name him Oscar, as in Oscar the Grouch, because I was mad.