This post may ramble and meander, but I need to get this out…I lost my baby brother. He passed away last night. I got a call from my younger sister at 8 am this morning. She was barely intelligible and panicked. I had to calm her down for her to make sense to me. The words were paralyzing. Reuben is dead. I was in disbelief and she in partial denial as well. We needed to check, to make sure no one had made a mistake, it was our only hope to avoid the horrible reality of acceptance. She wanted me to call his mother in law, afraid to ask herself. I agreed. Not two minutes later my older sister called. The moment her name showed up on my phone my heart stopped beating. She and I haven’t spoken since January, over some bullshit. I hesitated for a second, somehow thinking if I didn’t answer, it wouldn’t be true. Denial is a powerful state of mind. It flies in the face of undisputed logic. It is the final step before that emptiness of pain. I spoke to her. She confirmed it. I was confused and awkward. The conversation was brief. I sat in silence processing the meaning of it. I felt guilt. His birthday had just passed and he called me and I didn’t answer. I was in a shitty mood. I would call him back. I thought he was drunk again and I would deal with him when I was in the right state of mind. I messaged him on Facebook that I would call him back. I didn’t. I got distracted and forgot. Now I’m upset with myself because all I have left of our final communication is a shit Facebook post. It stares at me shouting my impotent attempt at being a brother. I am in a state of confused numbness, weaving in and out of empty sadness. Reflecting. Hating myself for my indifference. I am reminded of my best friend Steve. We always spoke on his birthday until the last one. I didn’t call. I was going through a divorce. Distracted yet again. He left me a voice mail asking me if I was still alive, as a joke on my situation. They were the last words of his I would ever hear..Am I alive? The inescapable irony of that one sentence haunts me. Am I?
I spoke to my niece. She found him in his bedroom on the floor. I am haunted by thoughts of his last moments. Was he in pain? Was he trying to get help? Did he suffer? I try to shut those thoughts out..too painful. I cry. I continue. I must. I am told to be strong, but I only go on because that’s all that can be done. I cannot escape my emptiness. I am a shell pretending to be me, struggling not to become consumed in thoughts of all those I have lost that I love. I am comforted by the words of people who barely know me. It doesn’t stop the pain but it makes me feel necessary. I need that now..purpose. I need that…
Move on, move on, we live only while dying
Cry for your loss, remember it well
For him, crying is done, dying as well
Remember him, not mourn him
Your tears are not what he sees
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