Mark was found yesterday afternoon. In the river, about three miles south of his duck blind.
He was taken to the morgue. (THE MORGUE! WHAT A HIDEOUS WORD! MY BROTHER IS IN THE MORGUE! HOW CAN THIS BE POSSIBLE? NO! IT CANíT BE!)
An autopsy will be performed tomorrow. Thatís all I know at the moment. I donít know who found him, or any other details. I just know that Mark is finally out of the water.
Now the reality sets in. My brother is DEAD. His body was in the river for TWENTY SIX DAYS. Now it is in THE MORGUE awaiting AUTOPSY.
Now the real grieving begins. The pain is even deeper than I thought it would be. I was not prepared for the absolute horror of this finality and this overwhelming grief. The enormity of it is staggering.
I canít stop screaming. At first, I screamed out loud. Now itís just in my head. But Iím still screaming.
Even though this is supposed to be a journal, and I do need an outlet for my anguish, I canít talk about it any more right now. It hurts too much. I just wanted you all to know that the wait is over. Now the bereavement begins.