Letters from my Brother

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I received a letter from my brother today. He is in jail and probably will be for a long time. He was arrested at the end of December, right before Christmas and the day after my deceased father’s birthday. He has some pretty serious charges before him and I am trying to accept these charges, to accept the fact that I may never see him again. Trying to wrap my brain around all of it and accept what lies ahead has been tough.

I just received his first letter today. It’s a real reality check when you see the county jail stamp on the envelope. Who is this person? Who has my brother become other than a felon that may never see dirt again.

I always have tried to help him and have always wanted him to succeed. He is my brother. I know that addicts always choose their addiction over loved ones because that is how addiction works. It still hurts and you can physically feel your heart break.  My father passed away at the age of 60 from liver cancer that spread to his bones and was dead within three months of his diagnosis. My brother told us he quit drinking but it’s obvious he never did. One would think he would have taken a second look at his lifestyle. Could I have done more? Could we have done more as a family, as if family therapy wasn’t enough?  Maybe I should have started sharing my story with him first, rather than the whole entire world but I don’t think he would have listened and in his mind, I was just crazy and didn’t need medication in my life. As I clear my throat, maybe he is taking a second look at his illness.

Now that he is in jail and has nothing other to do but think, read, sleep and begin the process of begging for forgiveness. He has turned to God for the first time in his life and has the need to get things right with everyone. His letter is very well written and I realize what a waste of a person and their life. It hurts. He says he has always looked up to me and honestly jealous of me and it clouded his judgment. I’m batshit crazy and he’s jealous?? HUH?!!

I by far, do not lead a perfect life and honestly I wouldn’t want to. I always had hope for him, and the hope has most definitely diminished. I can only imagine what goes through my mother’s mind other than she blames herself. She was his number one enabler and possibly always be as long as she lives. After all of this has happened, I can still hear the halo over his head singing from 200 miles away. I will never have that halo and honestly, I don’t fucking want if it is that kind of dysfunctional halo. It has to shaped like a triangle and that shit is just plain ugly!

He has no idea that his latest shenanigans threw me into a horrible depressive phase that had me in bed for a month, a month that felt like a week. The world around me kept spinning as I stayed still. Showering was a chore, texting and talking on the phone was near impossible. I looked like the crazy bag lady at WalMart and I slept, my goodness, I slept.j.

Grief is a long, painful, excrutiating and unpredictable thing. It rears it’s ugly head when you least expect it and as soon as you’ve gotten up, it  knocks you down again. I am grieving the loss of my brother because he is gone to federal prison at some point and he is not the man he was. He never will be. It’s like he’s died already without much needed closure.

They say everything is in your life to teach you something. I must be a genius because I have to have learned more shit and I mean shit than your Average Joe. I want a break from being a badass, the rock, the foundation. I need a wall to rest on for once but there are none is sight. I’m done learning and ready to be the teacher.