I was a kid when I first learned about Will. He was the brother I never met. Will had been taken from my parents before I was born, when he was just 2 years old. One day, in 1966, he went into surgery. It was supposed to be routine: bilateral inguinal hernia repair. But he never came home. The doctors didn't have a solid explanation for what happened. Something went irreversibly wrong. It might have been a bad reaction to the anesthesia. They just didn't know for sure.
That lack of clarity made Will's sudden death even harder for my parents to process. They'd not only lost their baby boy, but they didn't even get an answer as to why. They'd finally get the beginnings of one, though. More than 2 decades later.