You are the usual colorful character I’ve grown to love, the sex-talking guru who I and many others can always seek advice from, and the friend whose friendship with I admire the most. You are Queerie Bradshaw, the beautiful woman who has a passion for writing and shares that passion with others while others share theirs with you on this welcoming forum of yours. You are the most Mexican White girl I’ve ever met, and I love you infinity for that. You are all those things and so much more.
But right now you are a sister; solely a sister who lost her brother to cancer. Fucking cancer. I wish I could murder you, cancer, and cause you pain. I wish I could make you feel pain deeper than the pain you’ve caused so many people’s lives.
After losing my brother a few years ago to an aneurism, you’d think I’d have better words to write. But there is no advice to give, no words to comfort and no shortcuts to take. From what I unfortunately vividly remember, it is the longest day of your life. And when you wake up from a night’s restless sleep, you ask yourself if this is still happening. There is no greater reality punching you in the face than the one experiencing when losing a loved one.
Andrew was lucky to have you for a sister. You changed a lot of yourself to be closer to him and the rest of your family. You moved hundreds of miles away from your comfortable home in Oregon to be closer to Andrew and searched for jobs to work near by. Jennifer and I were praying and hoping for the best as we’re sure many others were as well. When you would come to us, your Bordistas, we celebrated his victories and prayed for his challenging journey ahead. We were so shocked to hear of his passing. We love you very much and wish you, your family, and close friends so much love in this time of healing.