So, most of you probably don’t know this (unless you actually read my posts), but on May 4th at 2:30am my little brother committed suicide at age 26. He did it at home (albeit in the yard), so we were all there for the immediate emotional car crash. My mother, who would have been getting up for work at 3:30, was awoken by the gunshot. By the time she got her housecoat on my brother was already gone. I then sat with my mother and held her hand for nearly seven straight hours while the parade of police officers, forensic technicians, and eventually the coroner did their thing. I literally had to keep telling her to breathe, as she just wasn’t doing it on her own.
Now, keep in mind that this was a week before Mother’s Day. When the day came my sister bought her a card, but I didn’t have the heart to buy her anything. I felt like it’d be a slap in the face, and I really didn’t think she wanted to be reminded that one of her children was gone.
Since the day of my brother’s death, his room has been closed and left as it was. My mother has only entered it once. However, it’s a f*cking mess. There are literally soda bottles and candy bar wrappers everywhere… not to mention the piles upon piles of laundry. So, I decided that today would be a good day to clean some of it up. Well, I got all of the junk cleaned up, but as I was leaving the room a pink envelope sitting on top of his bureau caught my eye. It turns out I’m the only one who didn’t get my mother something for Mother’s Day. Inside the envelope is a card my brother bought in the days before his death. Inside, in his immature handwriting, it says “Im sorry for everything I just cant take it any more see you again some day Love you & Ill miss you… LOVE YOU!!”
I know my mother hasn’t seen it. She’s too short to have noticed it tucked away up there. And now I don’t know how to broach the subject with her. She’s gone this whole time thinking something set him off that night. Now she’s going to know that he planned this… that he planned to purposefully be gone right before the one day that could potentially hurt her the most. My brother was a troubled individual, that much is clear. But I wish, for one second, he would have thought about how his actions would affect everyone else around him. And I really wish he wouldn’t have left me to do his dirty work.