Nineteen years ago I remember sitting next to my brother Jasper's bed as he lay in the ICU. The snow was softly falling without making a sound - it was deafening silent and yet peaceful and comforting at the same time. Inside the sound of his breathing machine hissed as it pumped up and down - the only thing keeping him alive. Three weeks earlier my brother walked into the emergency room complaining he couldn't breath. He would die TWICE on the table that day. Little did we know then that his life was spared only temporarily.
What do you say to your brother knowing it will be the last words he'll ever hear from you?