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About George ARAU

The reason my wishes are centered on writing this book is that I have been in silence for so many years about losing my brother.

I never thought that I could, or would want to, write a book capturing a terrible event interrupting my life. But, I did feel so obligated to break my silence and place my truth into such words, because I believe that maybe someone, somewhere, is wondering why this is all happening to him or her; perhaps someone is in need of a brother or sister, and I hope that person will find solace! 

I miss his presence so much since he left so tragically. That’s when I started to express myself in small memos, documenting what we did and didn’t do together, as well as wishes of what we could’ve done. I hoped to somehow heal the deep wounds of my soul and possibly help others in similar situations. It occurred to me that perhaps, my grief can transform another's into something of light and positive outcome. 

This book is dedicated to all victims and survivors, but especially to those who have lost a loved one to suicide, addiction, an accident, or domestic violence. Needless to say, one shouldn’t, and truly could never, forget the parents who read them bedtime stories and tucked them in, the childhood memories of brothers and sisters, or their own children that continue to suffer and endure oceans of pain and sorrow due to this magnitude of loss.

In my heart, I know that we can all find hope by stepping out of our comfort zones and lending a helping hand to our brothers and sisters out there who are struggling with demons that are greater than we’ll ever know. This, to me, is one out of many roads toward peace and healing.

I lost two brothers. Iani, the oldest, I never met though I always wish I had. He died at the age of only 6 months of certain complications. The middle one was Constantin, aka Costel /Tino, whom I had the privilege of growing up with. Just like all siblings, we had dreams of who we wanted to be and what we wanted to do. Unfortunately, he gave up on his all too soon and left us with unanswered questions that I’m trying to unpack, to this day. It’s been 14 years since he gave up on life, not knowing how much he was loved and how profoundly he would be missed. To all of you whose siblings still live, please go now and tell them not what they should do, but rather how much you love them, endlessly assuring them of your unconditional support and aid if they ever need anything in this life! Grief is an impossible puzzle that we work on, tirelessly; after years and years, I’m still struggling to find forgiveness and acceptance, but after my decision to pour my search and lessons into a novel, I somehow moved to a different phase of grief. Now, when I think of him, a smile comes to my lips, where before there were only streaming tears. I try to remember our good times together because while grief will never disappear, the long healing process is a must!

In August 26th 2005 he was 46 years old!

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