He is my only sibling and my best friend. A lingering darkness. My mother is grief-stricken as is the rest of the family. We try to go on, but it's always there, this good guy who made poor choices, my brother, her son, wasting away. I keep increasing my Prozac dosage but it never goes away.
Deaths are much easier to handle which is so, very sad.
Something is wrong with our justice system. Tim used to love the Grateful Dead and was in prison when Jerry Garcia died. He used to feed the Deadheads when they were hungry, for free. I was with him on some shows. If they didn't have money, he'd give them some fried dough with tomato sauce, and a soda.