A letter to my dead brother.

*Trigger Warning. Suicide*

Requiem is Latin for REST.  But you ALREADY knew that, didn’t you?  You were always so well read, so smart, and so articulate.  Are you resting now?  Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine. ‘Eternal rest grant them, O Lord’ – has eternal rest been granted to YOU?  You were forty-four when your otherworldly quest for peace began.  It was your birthday this week.  I thought of you. You would’ve been fifty-six. You’ve missed 11 earthly birthdays. Still life rolls forward even though there are many things left unsaid.

Do you know that ALL I ever wanted from you was approval?  A smile, a nod, a kind word.  I understand that you were deeply troubled. I’ve become QUITE familiar with mental health derailment. When you and I  were kids the labels and the help DIDN’T exist.  Eleven years ago it wasn’t much better.  Today it seems EVERYBODY wants a piece and it makes it difficult to get proper care – until you REALLY lose your mind or cause harm.  There are no neat categories.  No definitive diagnosis or prognosis. But if you are willing to jump through the hoops, endure all the chaos, allow the endless poking and prodding, eventually, if you are lucky – perhaps only by God’s grace, someone FINALLY stamps your hand and gives you passage into the shakey world of treatment and accommodations.    

The medical and psychological powers never did nail down YOUR disease.  Granted, from what I understand, the process of your personal detangling didn’t start until you were well into adulthood. Nevertheless, bi-polar or whatever you were, I ALWAYS sensed it.  My angry, hurtful, terrifying big brother.  Although you just could NOT like me, I adored you. Even when you screamed in my face, threatened me, thwarted me, squashed the caterpillar I was admiring, and said vile, hateful things to me, I loved you and I wanted you to care.  But you couldn’t.

You were so kind and so funny, and obliging to EVERYONE else, even to my silly friends who thought you were the coolest.  I thought you were the coolest – but you left me in the shadows.  You didn’t know it, but I watched you from a distance, longing to sit close.  Even so, I peeked out to marvel at your radiance.

I built a wall around myself once.  It protected me. I needed SOMETHING to guard me, to buffer the insults – to muffle the direct and horrible hits to my self-worth, to block out the overwhelming question about whether I DESERVED to draw air, to be in YOUR presence.  EVERYDAY you were alive, I clung to the hope that ONE DAY YOU WOULD CHANGE YOUR MIND.  You’d LET ME be a part of YOUR amazing life.  You’d show me the art you created and let me listen with you to your favorite music, you’d tell me about the best books you’d read, about your wilderness adventures, you’d laugh and tease and appreciate me – your reverent little sister.

When you died that hope was LOST.  Our children would never benefit from the carefree days of cousinhood and you and I would never enjoy a comfortable, unspoken, unconditional bond, as many siblings do. There would be NO camping trips, NO Christmas dinners, NO friendly check ins, NO growing relationship. To this day, I am reinventing myself as someone who doesn’t NEED your APPROVAL, or anyone else’s for that matter.  It’s funny how much of my identity was threatened when the wall became IRRELEVANT.  I kept it, out of habit, I suppose.  My perception of myself broke into a thousand bits that I’m STILL struggling to put back together. The wall looks different now – parts of it have crumbled and fallen, but

I still hide behind it sometimes.  

You had your 10 year chip.  A HUGE accomplishment. The autopsy confirmed you were not drinking. You were working SO hard on yourself. I’m proud of your valiant efforts. I’m not sure who you chose to make amends with when you did your ninth step.  Did you DO your ninth step?  It’s none of my business…but I can’t help but wonder, WAS IT TOO MUCH for me to wish that you’d acknowledge the damage you’d inflicted upon ME?  DIDN’T YOU KNOW THAT YOU HURT ME over and over and over again?  Did you have any faith, REALLY?  The AA steps are steeped in God language – regardless of changing the words to ‘higher power’ and ‘making amends’ – faith in something bigger and benevolent is the undertone. [that’s my uninformed impression – I don’t really know anything – just that it confuses me] Anyway, it doesn’t seem to fit with who I THOUGHT you were. Well, YOU didn’t know ME EITHER.  So here we are.

I sound angry.  I AM angry.  I can be angry and still love you.  I can be hurt and still forgive you.  I forgive you.  I love you.

Were you scared, big brother? Did you have second thoughts?  Were you sad? Did you make your peace?  Were you anxious for whatever would come next?  You should know that you highly UNDERESTIMATED the IMPACT your death would have on all of us still left to this life.  Thank you for including my name in your final note, listed with the people you loved.  It provided great comfort.  I understand liking and loving are different. I can accept that.  I’m so sorry that you were just SO exhausted by the WORK of living that relief, even death, was a welcome companion.  I hope that in your last moments you didn’t feel alone.  I hope LOVE held you and holds you STILL.

  Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine.