The first task we took care of was getting my littlest brother out of jail so he could be with the family during this time. It stabbed at me later when I found out that Amir was trying to save/borrow money to get him out before he died. It took one week to finalize funeral arrangements, for the ME's office to finish their exam, and for LifeGift to find recipients for my brother's organs. Five people's lives were saved due to my brother. We didn't eat, we didn't sleep, we did not do a whole lot except obsess and make arrangements. We talked to my brother's girlfriend, to some of his friends, to family... we sought answers to questions. Those questions remain unanswered. The only thing we were sure of is that my brother had a drug relapse before he died. Would he have done what he did if he hadn't relapsed? I like to think not, but we'll never know for sure. My own mind turned on me. I was given no relief, no rest, no freedom from my innermost thoughts and I felt like I deserved none, so I never resisted the attack. One night my dad fell from lack of sustenance, sleep deprivation, and grief. After screaming at him that he had to eat and drink something because I didn't know what to do, later that night I almost passed out for the same reasons. I realized that I couldn't keep going this way and I had to try to eat and sleep if I was going to hold the family together through the next few days. I managed to get by after that.
Services for my brother began at 10:00 am Monday, October 19th. We buried him in the town that last all five of us kids were together, the last place we were together before things fell apart when I went to college and left the kids. It was a beautiful sunny day and the services were suiting for him; he would have appreciated them. My family came together in a way that I hadn't seen in many years. I even saw my mother and father hug for the first time in 17 years. My dad and I stayed in town for another day before we headed back to Oklahoma.
|The last Christmas we had together before I left for college.|
I turned 30 exactly one month from the day my brother died. This was hard, too. I was supposed to go to Vegas to celebrate with a half marathon and my FFTFL friends. Before I realized my brother was using again, I actually was wanting to bring him with me. He had talked about Vegas many times and I wanted to celebrate his freedom and make up for lost time by taking a trip with him. My poor brother had been through so much and never got to enjoy his youth, I wanted to do something fun with him. This was a double whammy, not only did I reach a milestone birthday, the big 3-0, when my brother didn't make past 24, but what could have been a great memory with him was cruelly stolen from me. The guilt continued.
After my birthday, I continued about the same, looking back, I must have known how rough the holidays were going to be and was subconsciously holding my breath until we made it through. I also knew that Amir's 25th birthday was coming up, the last time I got to spend my brother's birthday with him was on his 21st birthday.
|I got to buy my brother's first (legal) beer.|
My other brother came and stayed with us for a couple weeks, which truly helped because he helped get me out of my head. Maybe also because he reminds me of my other brother, and reminded me that I still have loved ones left. His presence gave me strength. My brother went back to Texas before the holidays and I resumed doing nothing but sitting/laying around chain smoking, eating or sleeping (albeit restlessly). At some point before, I had to start medicating to start eating and sleeping; functioning had become increasingly difficult. In fact, some would say I was not functioning at all. The trend of losing weight switched to gaining weight though I did not notice. My dad would bring me food and pressure me to eat and I knew that seeing me like this couldn't have helped him, yet I couldn't change, so I would at least eat in a half-assed attempt to pretend that I was okay. My dad gave me strength. He had just lost his son and yet he still refused to give up on me.Once the holidays hit, the despair I felt was so heavy that I really gave up, I took leave from work and did not leave my dad's house for near two weeks and literally did nothing but lay on the couch. I became afflicted with crippling back pain and a respiratory infection.I drank heavily during this time, as well, although it only made things worse. On January 6, 2016, my dad and I drove to Texas to visit my brother's grave for his first birthday after death. At the end of the month, we visited my sister and her new little family in Indiana.
|My beautiful sister and my precious nephew, yet another reminder of life's blessings.|