I woke up this morning feeling really disturbed. I tried to think back to what I dreamt about before I woke up, and I remembered I was sitting in a public area with my mom that had huge, elegant, almost Victorian looking chairs with big cushions. She’s pacing back and forth, anticipating bad news from an unknown source. In the dream, Ed has been drafted to serve in the Vietnam War (this makes no sense, but what ever seems to make sense in my dreams?), and my mom is worrying every day that something bad has happened. We’ve heard through the grapevine that my brother got shot in combat, but we had no verified news of this happening or of his current condition. Suddenly, a man in miltary dress comes out of nowhere and hands me an official looking envelope.

“Open it,” my mom says. “I think this is it.” She’s implying that this is the news of his death, confirmed in writing.

I open it, and the words just bleed in my vision. The letter notifies us as his family that he has been shot and killed in combat, and that they will be shipping his body back to San Francisco.

I started screaming and sobbing, and my mother is already sobbing. The entire room continues on as though we aren’t there screaming and crying, and we just continue crying and mourning my Ed.

It’s weird to think about Ed dying in other ways. Shortly after he died in 2013, I constantly had dreams of him dying and committing suicide in different ways. Now, it’s like he’s still getting killed, but it’s not by his own means. Other things are out to kill him now.