May 23, 2017. I wasn’t in the states when it happened, I don’t remember the news reports. I don’t remember having to rush to the scene. I was actually out of the country. Walking through the streets of London with my family. I got a text from my brother asking if I could talk. Even now there is a strange weakness that comes over me thinking about that moment. I told him I needed to get to an area I had a signal and I would FaceTime him. A few minutes later I got back to our hotel and I FaceTimed my brother. The backdrop seemed strange when I saw him. Not something I was familiar with. A cold white background, almost sterile. And then my sister came into view. I immediately knew, at that moment, something was wrong. It’s hard to explain. There is a connection between siblings that you just know. My brother proceeded to communicate a vague situation in a very delicate way. It wasn’t that he beat around the bush about what happened, he just didn’t want me to know everything until he knew he could be there for me. And then the words came “dad is gone”. Everything else is a blur. Like a flash of bright light and a deafening silence… The madness of London was all around and I couldn’t see or hear anything.