Christmas of 1997 holds quite a painful memory for me. My youngest brother Brian was killed that day along with four of his friends in a car accident in Missouri. April of that year my husband and our family were stationed to Germany. We didn’t get to see Brian before he passed away. I will never forget the day Brian passed. Christmas afternoon I became very depressed. I didn’t know what was wrong with me and had a hard time snapping myself out of it. A couple hours later my mom called to wish us a Merry Christmas. During the conversation she said she was worried about Brian, that he hadn’t come home the night before. Brian was only 21 years old; very young, so I told mom he probably spent the night at a friend’s home.
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