Life and Death
I’ve dreaded this for a while. Why? Who knows. For a while I wanted to do something big for my birthday so I wouldn’t forget it. I really wanted to go to Vegas but ended up not doing so. The move to DC kinda cramped my budget a little. Ok…a lot. My cousin went to Vegas for her 30th, which is 4 days before mine. I know, however, that I will not ever forget my birthday…and I’m trying so hard to find something to associate it with other than the opposite of what it represents.
Last Friday my brother died. My annoying, over-the-top, selfish 23-year old brother died. People say never speak ill of the dead, but if I got all mushy and started spouting things like “He was a saint” the boy would come back and make something fall on my head.
I loved him and he loved me even though we fought and talked mess about each other (a lot).
He was in so much pain for such long time. He had fibrous dysplasia, a bone disorder. He had surgeries every year to two years from the time he was in kindergarten. Fully casted from the waist down to his ankles in some cases. He had a right to be angry.
But then life is what you make of it and how you handle what you are given.
He was super smart…but got hooked on the pain meds they gave to him. Mix that with alcohol and you have years of unhappiness for all involved.
Yes, I’m super pissed at him. He wasted all this time doing stupid things. But, that was his path to walk.
Being angry gets me through this.
My mom asked me to put his clothes in bags. She can’t look at them, she’ll crack. So I did. Being angry helped. Turns out he did something stupid before this happened and I found out about it before she asked me this. I did fine until I saw his baseball cap from when he was like 6 and used to run around in it all the time, even when he wasn’t going to practice or to a game.
I cried. I couldn’t stop crying.
My little brother is gone.
The last few days I’ve been in a fog. I get waves of it feeling real and being a wreck - then I’m ok and it feels like a bad dream or a joke he’s playing. I keep expecting a stupid text that says “Ha. Ha. I was only kidding.” But I know that isn’t going to happen.
My parents aren’t well. My mother is barely holding up, but luckily all her friends are stopping by constantly and her sister is here now.
My father isn’t doing very well. He’s hitting the bottle. People say that’s how some people deal. No. My father is an alcoholic and hasn’t done this for a while. I think this is killing him. He would be doing better if someone would take the drink away. That and maybe tell his wife to pull it together. She’s in hysterics. Which is funny considering how she treated and talked about my brother. She’s not being there for my dad, nor is she being there for her children (my younger siblings) - the 14-year old was close to Thomas. He’s not doing so hot either.
We don’t know how he died.
He went to Phoenix to visit his girlfriend the Sunday before all this happened. He was staying with her. They went over to a friend’s house and had a few drinks. He thought he was having heartburn and broke out into a cold sweat. They went home and went to bed. In the morning she woke and he didn’t. He was cold by the time this happened.
See. This seems like it’s not real. Doesn’t it?
Anyway, the coroner has his body. There isn’t a will and no one has power of attorney. So, the process to get the body and do whatever needs to be done is long and stupid. They also won’t release any of his personal belongings (the police have them) until the body has been released. So, we don’t know how to get in touch with his friends.
This is really painful for everyone. It still doesn’t feel real. Even as I’m typing this it feels like a nightmare.
Oh. That’s another thing. The nightmares have started and they are making me sick.
I’m tired. I don’t know how to deal with this. Not at all.
Oh, and then there’s the obituary that I get to write. Do I include that he was survived by his daughter that not too many people knew he had or leave that out? Everyone except my mom thinks I should include it. She’s worried about how my father would take it when I told him about it. Crap.
Thanks Thomas. I’m so gonna give you an Indian rug burn when this life is over.
Last Friday my brother died. My annoying, over-the-top, selfish 23-year old brother died. People say never speak ill of the dead, but if I got all mushy and started spouting things like “He was a saint” the boy would come back and make something fall on my head.
I loved him and he loved me even though we fought and talked mess about each other (a lot).
He was in so much pain for such long time. He had fibrous dysplasia, a bone disorder. He had surgeries every year to two years from the time he was in kindergarten. Fully casted from the waist down to his ankles in some cases. He had a right to be angry.
But then life is what you make of it and how you handle what you are given.
He was super smart…but got hooked on the pain meds they gave to him. Mix that with alcohol and you have years of unhappiness for all involved.
Yes, I’m super pissed at him. He wasted all this time doing stupid things. But, that was his path to walk.
Being angry gets me through this.
My mom asked me to put his clothes in bags. She can’t look at them, she’ll crack. So I did. Being angry helped. Turns out he did something stupid before this happened and I found out about it before she asked me this. I did fine until I saw his baseball cap from when he was like 6 and used to run around in it all the time, even when he wasn’t going to practice or to a game.
I cried. I couldn’t stop crying.
My little brother is gone.
The last few days I’ve been in a fog. I get waves of it feeling real and being a wreck - then I’m ok and it feels like a bad dream or a joke he’s playing. I keep expecting a stupid text that says “Ha. Ha. I was only kidding.” But I know that isn’t going to happen.
My parents aren’t well. My mother is barely holding up, but luckily all her friends are stopping by constantly and her sister is here now.
My father isn’t doing very well. He’s hitting the bottle. People say that’s how some people deal. No. My father is an alcoholic and hasn’t done this for a while. I think this is killing him. He would be doing better if someone would take the drink away. That and maybe tell his wife to pull it together. She’s in hysterics. Which is funny considering how she treated and talked about my brother. She’s not being there for my dad, nor is she being there for her children (my younger siblings) - the 14-year old was close to Thomas. He’s not doing so hot either.
We don’t know how he died.
He went to Phoenix to visit his girlfriend the Sunday before all this happened. He was staying with her. They went over to a friend’s house and had a few drinks. He thought he was having heartburn and broke out into a cold sweat. They went home and went to bed. In the morning she woke and he didn’t. He was cold by the time this happened.
See. This seems like it’s not real. Doesn’t it?
Anyway, the coroner has his body. There isn’t a will and no one has power of attorney. So, the process to get the body and do whatever needs to be done is long and stupid. They also won’t release any of his personal belongings (the police have them) until the body has been released. So, we don’t know how to get in touch with his friends.
This is really painful for everyone. It still doesn’t feel real. Even as I’m typing this it feels like a nightmare.
Oh. That’s another thing. The nightmares have started and they are making me sick.
I’m tired. I don’t know how to deal with this. Not at all.
Oh, and then there’s the obituary that I get to write. Do I include that he was survived by his daughter that not too many people knew he had or leave that out? Everyone except my mom thinks I should include it. She’s worried about how my father would take it when I told him about it. Crap.
Thanks Thomas. I’m so gonna give you an Indian rug burn when this life is over.