It’s been twenty-seven days since my brother died suddenly during his sleep. We got the cause of death about a week ago and I have been sitting with it. He’d had a mysterious illness that the doctors could not diagnose. His only symptoms were that he had a fever that wouldn’t go away and that he felt nauseous. Very nondescript symptoms. The doctors had run blood work several times. Nothing came back other than elevated white blood cell counts. He went to sleep on June 30th and never woke up. He was 48 years old.

The infection had caused myocarditis which is a relatively rare condition where the heart muscle becomes inflamed. It can be caused by a viral or bacterial infection. I’m angry that the doctors didn’t find this, but I understand that it wouldn’t be the first thing to look for, especially with no complaints of any chest pain.

This isn’t my first experience with sudden death of a loved one. It’s my third. The first occurred when I was five and my birthfather ended his life. The second occurred when I was 29 and my step-father, the man who I always refer to as my father, died suddenly after a routine colonoscopy of internal bleeding. It never get easier to deal with a sudden death.

I wake up every day and have the fresh realization that Matthew is not here. At least, not in the way I’d known for 48 years. I do believe that he is still among us. I believe firmly that our souls are eternal and that our bodies are merely a shell. But it still hurts. That moment of realization when it sinks in again that I’m not going to get to hug him, to talk to him, to smell his unique scent, ever again.

I miss him. I miss his laughter. I miss his irreverence. I miss his jokes. I miss seeing his art in progress on the kitchen table when I visit.

I’m feeling rather in-effective right now. My work is slow, which is a bit of a blessing, but also a bit of an irritation. If I were busy, I’d have less time to think. Less time to surf the internet and find silly shit that I would have texted to him.

I also have my father in law at my house. Two days after the funeral for my brother, he had a stroke. We are keeping him here with us so that we can coordinate his care. I don’t know what this will mean over the long haul, but for now he’s here. I don’t mind having him here, but it is added stress on top of my grief. In some ways, I’m grateful for the opportunity to be of service and help in this situation.

A friend in recovery reminded me to keep it simple. Eat when I’m hungry. Sleep when I’m tired. And I’m doing that. I’m prioritizing getting exercise and proper nutrition. I’m feeding my soul with meditation. I’m getting to meetings to look after my recovery, both AA and Al-anon.

But mostly, I’m waiting. Waiting for the time to pass and to begin to feel better.

Time takes time. This too shall pass.