Photo by Pope Moysuh on Unsplash

I Stopped Judging My Brother When He Came Home In A USPS Box.

It was a cold January morning. The grey skies outside matched the heavy gloominess I felt inside. From the corner of my eye, I caught the USPS truck slide right by the kitchen window. My heartbeat quickened and I raced out.

I accepted the 14" x 10" box from the mailman and signed for it. I gauged it’s weight, 10–15 lbs of substance that once was my brother. A…