My brother was found dead by the police yesterday. They said drug paraphernalia was near him, so they said it's possible he died of a drug overdose. I should hear something from the coroner's office today.

He was in the hospital a few months ago. When I went to visit him, he told me to leave and not come back. He wanted no contact with his family. (The hospital had called and asked me to come sign consents for treatment because he was not mentally alert.) I wanted to help him in any way I could. He was never married and really had no one. My other siblings and I had not heard from him in years. He was an alcoholic who was often homeless or in jail.

I almost can't believe that he's really gone . . . and gone for good. I'm by myself. I live far from the rest of my family. My longtime love and companion passed away four years ago. I'm still adjusting to that loss.

For years I've been worrying about my brother. Now there will never be another chance to reconcile with him. There's nothing I'll ever be able to do for him now. I wish he hadn't been so alone. He didn't believe anyone really cared about him. That was not true.

I don't know what's going to happen next. I don't know if my sisters will want for us to jointly plan a funeral. Or they might prefer that I just handle it all right here and bury him near where I live. I don't know if they will want to contribute to final expenses. They were even more alienated from him than I was. They might resent incurring any expense on his behalf. I don't want this turn of events to cause further strife amongst us.

I'm tired and better get to sleep.