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All The Things I Still Want to Say

Today is the 48th birthday of my brother Topher. He passed away on June 5th from ALS. I fucking hate ALS. That's my first blogger F word I believe (like we didn't all know it was coming...) but in my writing career there has never been a more appropriate time. The hardest part about losing my Topher is that he wasn't just my brother but my dear friend. I am certain that if life hadn't somehow created our DNA to show up in the same gene pool we would have found each other. We found life amusing at its corniest, but we also had an insatiable curiosity for human behavior. It's hard to find people with those particular interests. Losing one of the rare ones hurts. And when he was your brother as well? Double hurts.  Triple.  Whatever...I know for sure that when I think about missing him for the rest of my life I feel panicked--like I am stuck in elevator and the heavy doors will not budge. Incidentally my fear of elevators originated with my brother Topher, who jammed a

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