Shock and Awe

The past few days have been a roller coaster for myself and my family. Last night, I found out that my younger brother committed suicide earlier that day. We had all been in fear of this for some time, although there is nothing to prepare you for hearing those words.

My brother was a peaceful soul, at least to everyone else but himself. As I've heard from many people over the past few days, some of which I have never met, he was one of the nicest people around. He was not one to judge anybody, he would talk to anybody and never put them down. But to himself, he was forever in battle. From late in grade school, he just had zero confidence in himself, had very little image of himself, and was generally unable to see what others saw in him. When did it start, and where did it come from? I'll never know, and I'll never understand it. The only place he felt he could escape his world was in drugs and booze. It was a constant battle, one that he knew he had to win, and one that I'm sure he felt he would always lose.

The stories of the past 20 years could fill volumes, but needless to say many friends and family worked with him and tried to help him. The therapies, the hospitals. Moving away, moving home. Getting a job, losing a job. And, yesterday, that was it.

As I try to get some kind of handle on it, as I hear from his friends in their heartbroken state, as I hear from family all over the country, I keep coming back to our youth. Up until about 5th grade, we were probably as close as 2 brothers could be. Thinking about that astonishes me because I had forgotten how close we were - that relationship has changed so much over the years.

He was the kid who was up at 4am on Christmas morning - there was nothing any of us could to hold him down on that one. My parents would try and buy a little time, but there was no stopping him. He was going to open those presents whether we all got up or not. Thinking back, I can't remember him being so excited about anything more than those Christmas mornings.

He was fantastic at figuring out how things worked. I remember when he took apart his Big Trak - what did you do? Here was probably the coolest toy either of us had ever gotten and he was taking it apart! But he had to know, even if it meant he wouldn't get the enjoyment of playing with it again.

He loved camping and fishing; he was definitely an outdoors guy. My parents fostered this love and I think those years where we went camping in the trailer and fished at various lakes were truly some of the happiest of his life.

My own memories of playing with him in our youth are flooding back as I write this, but I think think I'll save those for another post.

Saturday is the memorial for him. I welcome your thoughts and prayers during that time, especially as our already-fractured family comes together to remember him.