I’m a writer, maker, professor, family member. My father was a minister, my mother a social worker. I grew up in a small town that featured death by farm accident and gun accidents. I have cared for several close relative during their dying process and in the moment of death: my father, my mother, my aunt, my mother-in-law, my brother Carroll. Death, dying, and illness have been part of my life since childhood, but to be with my brother as he legally ended his own life was like nothing I’d experienced. background: In April 2018, my brother Carroll ended his life after three years of living with the neuron degenerative disease amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), as it is known in the U.S., or, motor neuron disease (MND), as it is known in the United Kingdom. With family and partner present, under the auspices of the Death with Dignity Act in Washington State, he legally ended his life by taking a cocktail of medication. The prognosis for sporadic, spinal onset ALS is three to five years, with muscle atrophy, loss of motor skills, insomnia, and paralysis on the road to death. Carroll’s partner, son, and three siblings, myself included, were with him through the months of his decline and at his chosen end-of-life time. During the final months, in Carroll’s home of Spokane, Washington, raging forest fires of our climate-changed world made the air ash- filled, grey, unsafe for breathing.