Oh, what a horrible winter this was. Two major things happened; first, my dog Grace had a litter of 11 beautiful puppies! The following weekend, my mom came down for a visit. It was a nice visit, always is, when mom comes into town. Olivia and I dropped her off at the train station on Sunday as we always do. The next morning, I drive Olivia to school. Mondays are harder days for me anyway, as those are the days when Olivia goes to stay with her other dad for the week. On the drive home, I am overcome with emotions of family. I start crying. I think it was my mom leaving, Olivia going away for a week, and the new litter. I get home, and I leave my phone on the table so I can clean the whelping box ( a box used for delivering pups, and they stay in it for awhile). I am halfway through and the phone rings. I'll return the call when I get done. Then it rings again. And again. And again. I see I have a voicemail. I listen, and it is my younger brothers partner telling me to call the Ft. Lauderdale police, and he leaves the number. A rush of thoughts came through my head, "was he in trouble? Did he get beat up?" But nothing, NOTHING prepared me for the call I made to the police. "We regret to inform you your brother John has passed away." Silence. "What?" I respond. "We regret to inform you your brother John has passed away". I think it's a bad joke. He's younger than me. Works out regularly. He's my little brother. "No. That can't be. He's young". "Sir, please call (number inserted), as this is where the body will be delivered, and they can assist you further. We are sorry for your loss. Please call your brothers friend, he has been here with the body. Again, sorry for your loss." I hang up. I call my brothers partner. He tells me they think John died of a massive heart attack. I can't stop crying. For John. For me. For his partner. I call my family to tell everyone. Most don't answer, as it is Monday and we all work. I get ahold of my dad. Disbelief. I give him the number to call, as he lives in Florida as well. My sister calls back. "NO!" is what I hear. "Please pick up mom from work and tell her". "I will... oh, Patrick.." My brother was cremated, and there were two services; one in Ft. Lauderdale with his wonderful partner and some family and MANY friends, and one in Milwaukee where we grew up. It took me awhile to write the eulogy... I didn't want to believe my brother was gone... and had the support of my oldest sister while reading it. A day hasn't gone by without me thinking of him. Missing him. I listen to old messages he left on voicemail. I am going to miss those silly texts. The "Happy Neeeeeew Yeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrssssss, Patrick! OOOH, another year!" But really, I am going to miss my little brother most.