My mother and brother are gone. My brother was unexpected. I was watching a horror film of a remake. The one about a ballet school of witches and students.  My dad walked in and his face was frozen white. He simply told me, my older brother was dead.
He asked if I wished to see him one last time but I refused.
It would have only led to more ruin.
I did see him though a day before the Funeral in his coffin. He looked peaceful but his lips were so blue as was his hands.
I touched his hand and it was like a freezer cold.

My mother died in the ICU unit. She had Pneumonia.
I said to the doctor, she has survived about 20 scenarios in the past. Do you just wish for her bed for the covid patients or can you save her. She has almost died but recovered all those times.
And each time a brick adds to my wall.
Survivor's guilt of how I would just take a sprint and smash my hard head  in a cemented wall.
I'll probably be dazed the first time but awake with blood spilling out and then I'll dash the second time and all will fade to black.

My mother apologized for the child abuse,  but the true suffering was not her apology. I asked God to stop tormenting her. Kidney Disease, the Bag,  shingles, heart and lungs. It was the shingles of my most disturbing moment. She was crying out from the nerve pain in her neck. I called my Dad and he called an ambulance.
But I can't get it out of my head.
21 years since she was diagnosed as kidney failure.
Her faith in God never withered but mine did.