In 1992, Marian Botsford Fraser's brother, Dave, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Eight years later, as he struggled with increasing disability, he discovered that he had melanoma, which quickly metastasized. In this poignant sibling memoir, Botsford Fraser describes her brother's illness and death, their deepening relationship after years spent apart, her role as his caregiver in the final months of his life, and, finally, the curious mix of sorrow and soaring she feels in the hour of his death. She also remembers their childhood growing up in a mining town in the north, where they climbed forest fire lookouts in the bush, skated on beaver ponds in winter, and played kick-the-can after supper in summer. As adults, she and Dave forged an enduring bond when they took a canoe trip along the Coppermine River, where they battled numbness of mind and muscle, suffered through clouds of mosquitoes and herds of crawling black flies, and survived a plunge through the rapids in a rock-filled gorge. Most of all, she remembers Dave -- his pain and frustration, his passivity and pride, and then his sudden lightness and humor. This book is her poem to him.