He was gone, just gone. This was my belief after my brother Kevin died in a car accident in 1986. He was 23, and I was 21. All that remained were the memories of a fun-loving, caring brother with an impish streak.
I sensed my brother’s presence by my side at times during those first years after his death. But I did not think he was in some new, better world. Jews, I was sure then, do not believe in heaven. Right? The answer, I am learning, is complex.