This weekend my brother Tony shot and killed himself. He had 4 grown children and a wife whom he loved more than anything, and his family meant the world to him. It’s unlikely that we’ll ever get an explanation that makes any sense, because he would never have done something like this in his right mind- and those who were with him shortly before he did this said he was not in his right mind at all. I’m sitting on his lap in the picture below. Everything about him was big, in just about every way. He was tall, muscular, and physically intimidating to most people. His personality was huge, his laugh and his humor were gigantic. And he had the biggest heart. Unfortunately, he also had enormous demons that chased him his whole life. My parents took him in when he was 13 years old and I had just been born. He was my mom’s sister’s son. Biologically my cousin. He came from a broken home with abuse, violence, and abandonment. My parents have often described when he first came into our home that they would find him hiding in the storage room in the middle of the night. My brother never got the help he needed, as so many people in my family have not. I come from generations of people who hide their feelings, keep secrets, and suffer in silence. I’ve never been like my family in that way, which is why I developed an almost obsessive and consuming drive to speak out and tell the truth- even when it’s unpopular and people don’t want to hear it. Because secrets and silence destroy. My own demons have led me to envelop myself with compulsive work. The irony was not lost on me that I spent the day yesterday on NewsMax doing commentary on the death of Charlie Kirk, a man I wasn’t close with, to avoid dealing with the death of the man who grew up downstairs from me. I’m indeed sad. Heartbroken actually. But I’ve been grieving the loss of many in my family for a long time, including many that are still alive. They’ve been lost to their own unresolved traumas, and wounds that were never healed. My brother Tony is one of those people. I loved him. I love everybody in my family. But it is not easy navigating the often harsh terrain of broken people. And so I will continue to work, without pause. Because it’s what I do. Tony, I’m so sorry for all that was done to you that you didn’t deserve. But I’m grateful you came into our home and became a part of our family. Thank you for your jokes. Thank you for your strength. Thank you for loving my parents. Thank you for loving me. We know you didn’t mean to do this. We know it was an accident. We all forgive you. Be at peace now. Thank you for being my big brother. Love, Brandon