Its Not Fair.


It will be 8 years ago next week that my little brother left us.  He was my best friend.  You need to know the whole story, to see why this was and still is, so hard for me to deal with and Im not sure I can tell it well enough - but I'll try.  


 


He was born with brain damage, starved of oxygen at birth.  You wouldn't know to look at him, he was the funniest, sunniest little boy and he made me laugh so much.  He was a delayed talker but that was my fault coz I knew what he wanted without him having to ask. Even at just 6 I decided it was my job in life to look after him and I did just that


 


fate was unkind and life wasn't easy.


 


I left home at 16 and 3 years later, my brother was put into care. That was really the beginning of the end. He got into heroin & petty crime - moved onto car theft and was put into a young offenders; he was diagnosed with some pretty serious mental health issues but despite all the lemons he was dealt, he just carried on making lemonade - he really embraced life. He spent every weekend at my house. I fed him, cleaned his clothes, bought him chocolate - encouraged him to college or work or whatever program he was in and loved him.  I picked him up from police stations in the middle of the night and I scolded him, I feared for him,  I did whatever I could for him - it just wasn't enough to save him.


 


He was released from prison for the last time and 18 days later we switched off his life support and let him go.  We still don't know why he died.  He was found unconscious in his room.  He never woke up.  His brain had been starved of oxygen for the second time - his body didnt work on its own any more.  No evidence of foul play, no drugs in his system, just him in bed, asleep - it was an open verdict. He was just 22 


 


I sat with him for 3 days whilst they tried to fix him and the last 4 hours whilst his body slowly stopped working - not a trace of the inner turmoil flickered across his lovely face and I put my head on his pillow and I told him I'd race him to sleep. We used to race each other to sleep when we were younger, when he couldn't settle on the light summer evenings... he always won but I prayed this one time he wouldn't.  God was obviously busy elsewhere that night. 


 


I know that life for him was painful, frightening, disappointing and the voices in his head unrelenting.  I believe he is now somewhere warm and wonderful and safe. I miss him every day but I am grateful that I had him in my life.

deianira deianira
36-40
Aug 6, 2010