Yesterday was my brother’s funeral. He was buried as an urn as an addition to our father’s grave, the father he was so close to, with whom he shared his passion for soccer and the soccer club that, that very day where his heart failed, had won against their hard time.
During my brother’s Confirmation, my father was in critical condition from pancreatitis caused by that accursed gall cancer. My father held out to my brother’s party for finishing school - only then did the final collapse occur, and a few days later, he died.
One of the people, besides relatives, his best friend and his assisted living assistent, who came to the funeral was an old neighbour of ours and friend of my mother’s, whose daughter, her youngest, was born the same year and had been a childhood friend of ours and especially of my brothers, and whose oldest son had died young when I was in intensive care from my own pancreatitis, in that time that was so hellish to me - for my brother, however, it was around December that year that he was able to move out…
It is so terrible and senselessly cruel. If I were prone to superstition, I would almost believe that our family was plagued by a demon of pancreatitis, striking at us whenever things are looking upwards.
Thank you, FSTDT. Thank you, everyone here and especially in the Discord. You have done so much for me in this dark time.