https://scaryteapottakesontheworld.wordpress.com/
My brother Tristan was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer last year in July. He passed away in November after fighting for four months. We didn’t have the smoothest relationship but we loved each other. I will never be able to express how grateful I was, am and will always be to the people, some of who were complete strangers, who donated money to get my sister and I tickets to England to see him.

Tristan is my brother and he’s always here with us. I think about him everyday. Some days I cry a little. Some days I cry a lot. But most days now I think about how he’d think this or that was cool -or awful- and I think about what he’d say about certain things and I imagine the face he’d make if I told him something and I laugh. I feel sad that he didn’t get to finish watching The Hobbit trilogy and that he won’t get to read the next Terry Pratchett book and I wonder if he’d get mad if I gave away the lava-lamp he left with me when he went to the UK (and no I’m not getting rid of the lava-lamp because it’s f**king cool). He’s still on my Facebook, his number is in my phone and I just saw his picture on G-Chat as my mouse scrolled over his name and his face popped up.

It’s hard to think that he’s gone when he’s everywhere at once and it makes me wonder if I will always automatically answer that I have three brothers.