His auburn hair turned reddish-blond. His teeth gleamed white in a face that tanned to bronze. My late brother Kevin was the eternal boy of summer.
He was born in early August. Maybe his love for everything summer was a birthright.
To my brother, a slalom skier and ski jumper, every lake was a body of water to master.
The anniversary of Kevin’s death hung like a specter. I had to learn how to conquer March.
Those words end a chapter in my yet-to-be published memoir about journeying through grief after my brother’s death and moving closer to my Jewish faith.
Today is March 1, the 24th anniversary of my brother’s death. It is a day I dread because it is a reminder of a horrific day in my and my family’s life. I remember March 1, 1986, as if it were yesterday. I was asleep in my … Continue reading
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