When I was younger, I prayed for a little brother. I planned to love him unconditionally. I planned to take him to the park, movies, birthday parties. I vowed to be the best sister I could be. But, I only wanted a brother. I never wanted any sisters, but sisters aplenty I have. So, when my mother announced that she was pregnant with a boy, I thought my wish came true.
The nine months my mother was carrying my little brother were a blur, they seemed to pass by so fast. And, when my younger sisters and I were allowed to go visit my mother and new brother in the hospital, I couldn't wait to hold him.
A thing I regret now, is that my little young self didn't bring a camera to take a picture of him as a baby. But, that can't be changed now.
The next few months he was home was amazing. My mother never had to ask me to help her with him. I willingly woke up early morning to feed and change him. I gave up my cartoons to read to him. He was everything to me. So one day when I came home and he wasn't there, I worried. My mother and stepfather didn't come home their usual time. My aunt came to babysit the twins and I. I couldn't fall asleep because back then I needed to say goodnight to my mother before I was able to fall asleep.
So, when they finally came home in the dead of night I was awake. And, I didn't see my baby brother.
I asked my mother where he was and she started to cry. I think that was the only time I saw my stepfather hold my mother (even to this day).
I think I grew up that night. I realized my wish didn't come true and that there wasn't a "One" god who watched over everyone, trying to make them happy. I lost my faith in monotheism, shortly after.
My brother didn't come for a over a year. He was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy Stage 3. he needed nurses and a respirator to help him breathe. Doctors didn't expect him to live past two. My brother made it to ten years old, almost eleven.
My biggest regret in the world, is that I wasn't a better sister. I made promises to a normal brother for a normal life, but I wasn't able to adapt that plan to his condition. I couldn't take him out to play, but I could have read to him. I could have stayed with him more often in his room and just spent time with him. But, I didn't because I was too hurt and confused and selfish. I hated the world, I was depressed. I wanted to be alone.
The day he passed away is a day I will never forget. The whole universe seemed to align for me though, clearing the path so that I wouldn't be able to miss it. I'm not sure you would understand, but trust me when I say fate meant for it to be and nothing anyone did could have changed it.
I miss my brother. And, I long for the life that I wished for us. But, I can only hope that in the next life I have, we are reunited and able to be together like I planned.
There was a time when I thought I could cope with his loss; and for awhile I did. But, I was terrified of forgetting him. Because I know my mental defense-mechanism is to forget everything that hurts me and his death hurt me more than having my heart broken by my first love. (I know, what kind of comparison is that? Well, it's the only two great hurts I've suffered in my life so far.) But the truth is... now, I can't look at a photo of my brother without crying (even tough I carry a photo of him with me everywhere I go). I can't even think of him without hurting.
A part of me will never be able to overcome the pain of his life and death. Simply because it was unfair. The unspoken rule of life and death is that the old must die, while the young live. It's the reason why adults would risk their lives to save children. The older you are, the more you have lived, isn't it fair to trade your life for the one of someone younger who hasn't lived? As the eldest of all my siblings, I would give my life to save any of them. I have not loved my life to the fullest, but I have lived and I would give my life so my siblings could do the same.
It's never easy for a parent to lose a child. But, no one ever thinks to consider the hurt the siblings feel. We feel the pain, too. Because even though sibling bicker and argue and may even hate each other, there is bond that ties us together; and, when one of us is hurt, we all feel it.
My brother's life and death caused many issues between our family, but the one thing that never changed was that we all loved him with all our hearts even if we didn't show or rather, sucked at showing. And, we all felt the same guilt and pain. My brother joined our family together and he will keep us that way. His life and death will be the one burden and pain we all share.
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