I'm still here in Packrat

I’m still here, but my little brother is not, and I’m trying to survive that fact. He’s been gone for six months now, and, as when the Coyote died before him, I can function, look forward to things, laugh, but some days it hurts to breathe, and all I want is for the pain to stop. I no longer feel that God is there to help, although, having said that, I could point out all the times God has literally saved my life. So I know without doubt that SOMETHING is there, but I don’t know who or what it is or how to reach it.

I’ve been praying to die because it hurts so much to live, but God isn’t listening to me over that, either, just as he didn’t hear me pray for Little Brother or the Coyote.

But perhaps he did and I just didn’t like the answer. For those of you who read me on OD, you’ll know that the Coyote had been in a coma for four years; that wasn’t a life, especially for someone who had always been so active, athletic, and energetic.

My little brother had ALS. He was only 50. He could still drive until early March 2015, and things went downhill from there. He still had limited use of his fingers but actually still worked; he was in a wheelchair, but he hadn’t reached the point of having machines breathe for him or having to communicate by means other than talking. He had to be fed, washed, and dressed, but he still could talk, eat, and drink. My mother had hired someone to take care of him at night (we thought all this would be temporary, not wanting to believe he really had ALS), and they had just started talking about beginning to consider his going on disability because the cost was all out of her pocket. He loved his job and didn’t want to give it up, and his boss loved him and said he could work there as long as he wanted (he worked on the computer in the pharmacy and had been Employee of the Year not long ago).

He was at work when he died; he died with fur and a tail - he was the Big Bad Wolf for the pharmacy’s Little Red Riding Hood theme for the Halloween contest. I had wanted to know why he needed a costume, because he IS a wolf (he was the Wolf clan leader), and said that Baby had dressed against who she was - she’s a Wolf cub but she was Little Red Riding Hood herself. She had been there in the morning, and I had been there around 11 a.m. to take pictures, and my mom came as I left, so we all got to see him that day, and he was in a jovial mood.

They went to their Halloween party, and getting in the car to return to work Little Brother suddenly couldn’t breathe - he died but was resuscitated, but he died again in the ambulance and didn’t come back.

Baby is what kept us going.

I’m having a hard time because of the DOT - he told me I was right, and he didn’t want her, but she had to be there for Baby to be there. I could go into all the reasons I hate her, and there seems to be a fresh one every day, but I have to swallow it all down because my mother is so afraid the DOT will take Baby away, even though she has many reasons for visitation rights under the grandparenting law.

I looked it up as well as talking to an attorney. The DOT was NOT his wife even under common law. She went on a big spending spree with his money; I know what she spent, how and where, because he left his bank account to me (as well as his 401K) and his life insurance to our mother. She did this in the days right after his funeral; I didn’t immediately think to freeze his account BECAUSE I JUST BURIED MY LITTLE BROTHER. She has debts she says were theirs, but my brother was never in debt before her and said she was in debt up to her eyeballs; in debt but none of the money she spent was for any payment anywhere. She took Baby to trick or treat right after Little Brother died. I screamed at her so much (for other reasons) that blood vessels popped in my face and I was splotchy for days. She got picked up for DUI and made the April 2016 edition of a paper called JAILBIRDS. I could go on - and on and on; I was screaming at God, screaming at my Little Brother for his stupid decisions that he left with me (Baby I adore, but her mother is a waste of humanity); my hair started falling out and my anger so intense that I’d get dizzy (but my blood pressure was actually the best it’s been in years!).

I think about things like running over her with my car, but that would hurt my car, and I love my car.

So on top of mourning I’ve had to deal with a rotten piece of sh*t for so many more reasons than I’ve stated, but I’ve stopped screaming. For the most part.

I always thought I’d go first. I told Little Brother where to bury me and all that accompanies that; all my plans ended up being used for him, and he rests beside our dad.

We are now planning one of the ceremonies we have after someone dies. (We have to have one for an aunt, too.) It doesn’t seem possible even now that any of these ceremonies could be for him; I still feel he’s going to come back, and the realization that he won’t makes me feel I’m unraveling.

But

“…I will survive
Long as I know how to love
I know I’ll stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
And all my love to give and I’ll survive
I, I, I will survive

“It took all my strength not to fall apart
Trying’ without my mind to mend my broken heart
I spent so many nights
Feeling sorry for myself, how I cried..”

• Gloria Gaynor - I Will Survive

Last updated May 03, 2016