According to our mom, on his seventh birthday, my oldest brother Mitch went to school and announced to anyone who'd listen, "Guess what I almost got for my birthday! A baby sister!"

To be fair, I was born about 19.5 hours before his birthday. His daughter Sarah cut it closer, coming about three hours before my 16th birthday.

Late Friday night as I was settling in for bed, I noticed a text on my phone from Mitch's number with just three words: "Dad is gone." It was from Sarah.

Though I knew Mitch's throat cancer had metastisized, I didn't expect his end to come so soon (he had been playing it down for me, apparently not wanting to worry me). It made me regret even more not being able to see him when he came down to Little Rock last month for a colonoscopy. I won't be able to attend services for him either, because of work (including my side gig), my health, a long-delayed move, and the risk of me driving that far in my current mental state (especially knowing how close I came to having an accident--twice--when I traveled for Corey's service four years ago at around the same time of year).

I'm not dealing well with the latest news, coming so closely on the heels of the........

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