The Next New Normal

I called my father, expecting to hear there had been a car accident, but no.

My brother committed suicide.

I went back to my apartment and Bruce was there. I have no memory of how he knew but he tried to comfort me. Again, I was numb. Even number than I'd been when my Mom died because I'd known that was where we were heading. This had come out of no where.

Once again I was in Long Island at the same funeral home, in the same room, looking at the same casket.

It serves no purpose to go through those horrendous days in detail. The overwhelming shock, sadness and disbelief was the theme. No one knew what to say. In 1978, if suicide happened at all, it certainly didn't happen in nice families from Locust Valley. Throughout the years so much more was to be revealed to me but right then, right there all I could think was "why?". And feel horrible that I hadn't known what he was going through.

My father was shaken to his core. He was even more irrational than I would have imagined. We both went to Minneapolis following the funeral. My father picked up my brother's car and I flew from there onto Los Angeles. He decided he'd drive out to stay with me.

As he left me at the Minneapolis airport his parting words were, "I would understand this better if it had been you."

To say I wasn't looking forward to his arrival in Los Angeles was an understatement.

I went back to work. I think my first show was Midnight Special.

I loved Wolfman Jack.