On Monday, I received the call I had been preparing myself to receive for almost two years now. It was from the Santa Cruz, California, Sheriff’s Department. My brother Paul had been found dead.

I am the oldest of three boys. I was born in 1960, Paul in 1962, and Jon in 1970. Paul and I were born in California, and Jon was born in Washington state.

With Paul and me being so close in age, it often felt as though it was the two of us against the world. I always knew that he had my back. Even though I was the oldest, I always liked and admired him.

Here are two pictures.

The first is of him from two years ago (2024) in Santa Cruz, on a good day out of the hospital. The second is the way I will always think of him (and us) from 1983 or 1984. Paul is the handsome guy sitting down.

Rest in peace, Paul. I love you, bro.