I can't separate him from childhood. Every childhood memory I have, except for when I was elsewhere, involve him. From infancy to adolescence. Think about it. That could be a lot of time, and it was.
Today, I listened to people. I heard them cry. I cried. Everyone loved him as much as I did. They talked to god, and I did not. We were all sad. They prayed for his soul, I remembered how he impacted my life.
I was prepared for the death of Troy by the death of my own brother. Sure, I grieved. But I also saw them bring in extra chairs because there was not enough room in the church for all the people he touched.
He lived his entire life. And an entire church full, at least, will never forget him. Most celebrated his death as a passage to heaven. I celebrated his life.
I have never felt stronger.