Your brother, my husband, called to tell me that your plane had gone down off the coast of Panama. Your sister texted soon after, knowing my feelings would mirror hers. The two of you have been estranged for decades.
You were his best man the day we got married. You and I danced that evening, which was funny since I could never persuade you to dance while we were dating. From then on, our lives intersected at weddings, birthdays and funerals. For the most part, we behaved civilly toward each other. Sometimes we even enjoyed each other’s company.
A rush of feelings overwhelmed me when I heard your plane had crashed: fear for my husband and what your loss would mean to him; concern for your parents, who didn’t yet know about the crash; thoughts of your girlfriend. Those minutes that we spent preparing ourselves for grim news stretched into hours. You are an experienced pilot. You have flown that route dozens of times.