I was in Las Vegas when I got the call. My father was telling me that "We lost your brother last night." The words just didn't really register with me. I had to ask him again what he was telling me. I thought he was saying my dog or cat because I was out of town on business. He said it again, "We lost your brother last night." I couldn't even respond. I just told them I would get home as quickly as I could. When I got home, I found out that my brother was driving a car that hit a four wheel truck, head-on. He was killed almost instantaneously. The bones in both of his legs were shattered.
He had been at a party, drinking. His judgment was impaired and he ran a red light. The hard part was the devestation to the family afterwards. The people who carry on. My parents were just incapable of taking care of anything so I was the one to do it. I had to make all of the funeral arrangements, pick out what he was going to wear and what would be on his tombstone.
--Tonetta, Phoenix