I spent all day Tuesday planning my brother’s funeral.
In my head.
I composed a eulogy that I would say while standing next to his lifeless body. It was an angry eulogy directed at him. Whenever my words would come to surface all I could do was cry.
I cried over and over on Tuesday.
At 3:01pm the tears started flowing and wouldn’t stop. I convinced myself that this was the precise moment he died.
But I was wrong.
He didn’t die.
He was in jail.
The safest place he could ever be.