We came from a family of domestic violence. There are four of us (myself, two sisters, and only brother Ricky who was only 9 at the time and the youngest). June 1975 our world was changed forever due to our Dad shooting and killing our mother. We went to live with our mothers sister (our Aunt) who had five kids of her own. Every since that day Ricky never seemed to be able to stay out of trouble and it just escalated from there. Now we know longer have him with us. None of us of course ever got over our childhood, especially Ricky. He just never seemed the same. Drinking, going to jail lots of times, and at some point the drugs started. Now we know longer have him with us. The four of us had a rough life and now one of us is gone. Hard to deal with it.