My Dying Brother Made Me Promise To Keep His Secret. Did I Make The Wrong Choice?
The author (left) with her brother and their families on vacation on Cape Cod in 1983. (Photo: Courtesy of Virginia DeLuca)/ , and December is AIDS awareness month. My brother, John, died of AIDS 34 years ago. Recently, John’s youngest son and his family visited Boston. We lounged in my living room, joking around. We’d had some wine, relaxing after a long day of wrangling little kids on vacation. “I’m 44. I’m older than my father was when he died,” Todd said, apropos of nothing. “It’s sad.”/ “But what makes me feel worse is how everyone ...
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