Reader's Digest version, for those who missed my previous thread:
My oldest brother was a drug addict for decades. I haven't seen him since out mom's funeral in 2006. Great guy, I'm sorry about the direction his life went in. A couple months ago, his landlord reached out to my sister--at that time D was fighting COVID for the second time. He recovered, but a few weeks later was struggling. Back in the hospital, sepsis, he was in a coma, organ failure, plug was pulled.
At the time of his death, he wasn't in contact with the family. He was on methadone, disability, got food stamps, etc. On the good side, he was great friends with his landlord (nice guy!) and had dogs in his life. Sis and I spent decades worrying that we would get The Call--that he'd overdosed, or frozen to death under a bridge or something. So, the fact that he was clean, had a home, had food and clothing and friends--that means a lot. I'm saddened, but not overwhelmed with grief. Meanwhile, there's issues and complications and family drama that make the whole thing a bit comical. Added bonus, our mother was (unmedicated and) bipolar our entire lives, which is why nobody in their right mind would want to spend eternity next to her. Although I'm personally hopefully that she's whole in heaven in a way she couldn't be on earth.
Sorry, that ended up being longer than I planned.