My eldest brother, Marc (on the right) and Tommy and I hugging after their big brother speech at my wedding in 2006.

Four years ago today, I woke up with my face smushed inside my elbow on my mother’s light oak kitchen table in Queens wondering if the previous ten hours had been a dream.  My head hurt and old tears stained my face.  There was a knock at the door.  I wiped the residues of my hour of sleep from the corners of my mouth and answered.  My aunt had bagels and my older brother was still gone.