My brother would have been 44 yesterday.

It’s the fourth June 13th, ‘Brent would have been _ today,’ that has passed without him here. Since we lost him at 39, I’ve often written about how he’ll remain forever 39 in my mind and how strange it is to carry on aging without him passing through the number first.

40. 41. 42. Soon 43. These are all numbers I’ve experienced without him, and I don’t really know what to make of that. It just is.

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