This touching reminiscence of his relationship with his late brother by Emilio Mesa appeared in the „Gigs of Memories“ column of Quartz.
I eventually erased my mother’s frantic voicemail, but it still beats inside me, like a second heart.
“Your brother is dead! Please come home,” she screamed.
A sudden heart attack claimed my brother’s life at 30. He died in his sleep, found by his eldest son.
When I lost my iPhone, eight months after his death, I mourned him for the second time. All the childhood pictures and final texts my brother, Wesley, had sent me were on there. I had not backed any of it up in my iCloud account. I feared the phone slipped out of the back pocket of my new black skinny jeans after I crossed a crowded bar.
“They’re too tight for slip-outs. You were pick pocketed,” said my friend as he…
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