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On the 20th of November it will be 20 years since my brother Brent died, and my heart cracked open and bled away. The life leaked out of me as he took his last breath. It was after a few hours during which Brent struggled to live--or was it to let himself go?--that the rattle of death surged through him. I begged him to stay on this earth. But Brent was as elegant in his last moments as he had been his entire life.
My brother was handsome, brilliant, and charming, fantastic fun for anyone who followed him--he was a Pied Piper of lost and lonely souls, as well as for all others. He was clever, generous, and kind, lapping up life as if he were a fine Cheshire cat drinking Triple Cream. Life was a wonderland of adventure for Brent, and that didn't stop until the air seeped out of him forever.