Remembering...(warning no adult content...trust me, it pains me more)

Fifteen years ago today my family lost my brother, Jimmy, 6 days before his 35th birthday. He died of Acute Pancreatitis brought on by undiagnosed diabetes. 15 years is a long time to miss someone. I think about him regularly, sometimes I just sit and replay conversations we'd had in my head so I never forget the sound of his voice. I dream about him, infrequently, but when I do, I'm glad, because in dreams you remember everything, the voice, the mannerisms, it's amazing how much recall your unconscious mind has. It's so important to remember…

I remember my Mom having been up at the hospital the entire day before he passed and being worried that she wouldn't eat, so I went to a local fish store and bought her a big steamed crab, because crabs were her favorite food. When she went to crack it open it's entire insides were black. Grossed out we threw it in the trash. When we went back up to the hospital that night there were new tubes that were snaking through his body sucking out a black liquid and I remember thinking that is a fucking omen and trying to shake the thought. The next day, April 6, 1996, I remember waking up and going to work because after a long night at the hospital, we felt somewhat hopeful, after speaking with a nurse, that he had a strong heart and with the proper medication he would make a full recovery. Later that morning, I remember my parents calling me at work and telling me I needed to come down to the hospital right away. I remember getting there and my father pulling me aside to tell me we had to come to terms with the fact that we were going to lose him, and I just didn't understand how the situation could turn so quickly so I reeled on the Dr. that was standing there and I demanded an explanation and he got defensive with me and said, "what you don't think I'm doing everything I can?". I remember an insane urge to kick the Dr. in the balls and my father telling me he needed me to get a grip. I remember waiting for my brother Anthony to get up to the hospital because my parents didn't want to sign the do-not-resuscitate order until we had all discussed it and I remember as we were waiting for Anthony, hearing "Code Blue in ICU" and me jumping from my seat and running into the ICU where I caught a glimpse of his bed surrounded by doctors, nurses and machines and a huge male nurse wearing a turbin literally throwing me right back through the swinging doors. I remember my Mother screaming for my father to "do something" and my Daddy, who was so smart and capable, looking more helpless than I could ever imagine was possible. I remember Jimmy's friend, Mike, crying so hard he couldn't breathe and my sister, selflessly trying to comfort him. I also remember how quickly Kathleen got from her apartment in Queens to the hospital and her sitting with me at his bedside because I knew when I walked away from his body I would never see him again and it terrified me. I remember the nurse running after me when I swiped a pair of scissors from a nearby desk because she thought I was going to hurt myself but all I wanted was a lock of his hair. I also remember my Aunt & Uncle bringing my Grandmother to the house so we could tell her what happened and the length of time it took her to process what we were telling her. She just sat there looking at us like we had all gone insane.

Jimmy wasn't only a brother to me but for as long as I could remember he was truly my best friend and my hero. We had a running joke in my family, every single time my parents would go on vacation or for an extended trip to our condo in Florida they would end up getting a call from Jimmy that began the same way, "Ok, so don't freak out, she's fine but…" and then he would launch into what ever type of accident I got myself into that required my siblings to take me to the hospital, whether I was launching myself off the back of the couch until I sprained an ankle or crazy glueing my eye shut. I remember when I was a little girl and my Mom went back to work my Dad would bring me to the shop and I would pull a stool up to whatever car my brother was working on and I would just sit and talk to him all day. I remember when I was in Jr High and he would get home late from work on a Saturday night and I'd be up watching Saturday Night Live he would come and watch with me. I remember when I was in college at Albany State about 3.5 hrs from home I would call him when my car wouldn't start and he would drive up to Albany after work to fix my car wherever it had crapped out, a friends driveway, the college campus, in front of my ghetto apartment. He never complained, often driving right back home when he knew the car would be fine and would get me to school the next day. I remember the night I glued my eye shut, I was sitting on my parents bed fixing one of my long fake nails and I squirted glue into my eye and immediately went to rub it and glued the lids together, while my sister was downstairs in a state of panic, calling poison control, I called Jimmy, he was holding one of his Triumph Car Club meetings at his shop in Bayshore. One of his friends answered the phone and was trying to make small talk figuring out which sister he was talking to, "is this the big sister or the little sister?" To which I replied, "put Jimmy on the fucking phone" , I then heard the guy say, "um, it's your little sister" as he thrust the phone into my brothers hand. Jimmy said, "what's up?", I said, "Crazy glued my eye shut", Jimmy asked, "are you home alone?", I replied, "no Diane is downstairs freaking out", He laughed and said, "I'll be right there". 20 minutes later I was in his car on the way to Huntington Hospital, meanwhile it's usually a 35 minute drive from Bayshore to Huntington. I remember how cool he thought it was that the Dr. had these special magnifying glasses to see the small amount of damage I had done to my cornea and my brother had to put them on so he could check it out. He then promptly fell asleep in a chair and the nurses let me lay in the hospital bed long after they were done patching me up so I could let him get a little bit of rest before he had to drive me home.

Remembering is important not only to keep someone alive and in your consciousness but the memories also help you make choices on how to react in the future. His passing taught me a few very important things: 1.) people grieve on their own time, in their own way and it's never right to judge how someone should behave or when they should "get over it". It's probably the worst thing you could say about someone that is grieving, that they should "get over it". It makes me insane. 2.) when someone passes and you are searching for something to say to their loved ones, it's perfectly Ok to only say, "I'm so sorry", stuff about "better places" and "looking down on you" and all that shit doesn't work for everyone, trust me, I don't believe in a hereafter, he lives on in my heart only and that is enough for me. Bringing God into it is not a comfort for someone who does not subscribe to your ideology. 3.) people who don't take the time to think before they open their mouths make dumb comments that live on in perpetuity. Lemme explain, at Christmas time in 1996 my Mom was at work and her and some co-workers were sitting around the lunch room table, the subject of Christmas plans came up and my mother was asked how her family would be celebrating. She responded that we weren't ready to celebrate that year. When prompted for an explanation by a new girl, in her early 20's, one of my moms fellow co-workers gently explained that Grace has lost her son in April and the family was still grieving , to this the dumbshit replied, "Oh you guys are so lucky you don't have to buy any presents." Now, I wasn't even in that room and I will remember that comment for the rest of my life. Fuckin asshole. On what planet is that an appropriate thing to say to someone who has lost a child? 4.) when you love someone that has lost someone dear to them, the time you are most needed is weeks later when all the excitement is over, when other people stop calling them to see how everything is, when the cards and the trays of food stop coming, when everyone else has gone back to their own lives that's when you are needed most. Cause that's usually when the anger comes. You realize the rest of the world is still spinning while your world has crashed to a halt. Those "stages of grief" are no joke. The anger was the toughest one for me, I was mad at the world for a good while, so mad that some idiot shrink wanted to put me on Lithium. Lithium ain't no joke. I declined the Lithium and found a new shrink that sat on the floor of his office with me and repotted Bonzai trees. Crunchy bastard, haha, but he helped…

If you made it to the end, I apologize that this wasn't a funny post. I suppose not all streams of consciousness are humorous, even when you're as warped as me. I'll make it up to you next time, I promise. :)