Today was the Who We Lost book launch and reading event in New York City. I wanted to read about Bobby and Mom but could not take the trip. Instead, I tuned into FB Live from Citrus Springs, Florida and watched others read stories about their loved ones who were taken by Covid.

Many of the authors have become my friends over the past few years. It was nice to see the faces of Martha, Ed, Kim, Mary, David, Marlene, Rima, Pamela, and all the others. Because of them, I know their loved ones. I never met Jody, Robert, Johnny, Rami, or Martin, but I know them.

David read on behalf of Marlene and himself. Marlene and I both know the pain of losing a brother. I imagine taking the stage was too difficult for her today. Rima knows the same pain because she lost her brother Rami. I felt Rima’s sadness as she tried to stop herself from crying. Every tear signified her love for Rami.

Losing a brother is more painful than I could have ever imagined. I never thought about life without one of my brothers. I hate life without Bobby. I hate that he was stolen by the virus. I hate that he died on the floor alone. I hate that such a kind man was taken in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t deserve to go out like that.

I hate trying to exist knowing Bobby is not here and he isn’t coming back. Rima and Marlene must be feeling the same. Rima works tirelessly to honor all loved ones lost to Covid. Marlene makes time to advocate in between caring for her elderly mom and taking care of her sweet granddaughter, Amanda. I suppose that is what we do now. We work hard to make sure the world knows our brothers and how special they were. We memorialize them, we advocate, and we honor them by carrying on their spirits of kindness. We do anything to distract ourselves from feeling each moment that comes with the unbearable pain of losing our brothers.