John 1986-2009 How?
by Kate
(USA)
It's the morning after, but it feels like it's been days. He was too young, only 23. He was my big brother. I can't grip it. Today my sister was supposed to go to college and I am turning 15 in a few weeks. I just don't understand. The idea doesn't seem real to me.
Yesterday I was at the beach with friends and I just felt something was wrong. I was mysteriously bummed out. When I got home, I sat down at the computer and played games as usual. Around midnight the phone rang. My mom told me to answer it. It was my grandpa. My grandpa lived with my brother. He was the sweetest, happiest man alive.
When I heard his voice like that, something was really really wrong. My mom spoke to him saying stuff like, "Did you call the ambulance" and "Is he breathing?" and "Is Billy there?" Billy is my uncle. And if my grandpa was on the phone and she was asking about Billy, that left John. The least likely of the three.
My mom ran upstairs and got my dad and said they were going to my grandpa's. I demanded answers and she insisted she didn't know anything and would call me. They left. I was scared, but in my head I knew tragedies didn't happen in real life. Nothing bad has ever happened to me. Why now?
The door opened minutes (felt like hours) and I thought it was my sister who was with her friends before she left for college. It was my parents again. My dad was weak on his feet and my mom was helping him to the couch. He ended up just laying on the floor. My mom went downstairs to talk to my sister who was already home I guess.
I sat with my dad. He was talking again. I heard my sister scream. My dad finished, "It's John. We think he's gone." I replied with just "No no no no no that's not right." I wasn't crying yet but just shaking. I started shouting. My sister and my mom came back up and we were just screaming "NO!" I said "They can still do stuff. Is anything certain. What about the paddles?" My mom said "They did that, the ambulance left."
After more of this I got dressed and family friends were at the door crying. They offered to drive us, but my dad said he was fine. We got in the car. A twenty minute drive felt like hours and hours. My sister and I held each other crying. It had stormed the night before and my dad wove his way through the trees and branches.
We finally got into town and we ran all the lights. When we got to my grandpa's street, there was no ambulance, sirens, commotion, just a single cop car. My cousins, aunts and uncle, my brother's girlfriend, and her parents were waiting. I walked towards the house bawling. We weren't supposed to go in.
My dad was so strong. He was gabbing the whole way down about peace, god, and togetherness. Which helped at first, but only made things worse after a while. He went in with my mom. My aunt and uncle greeted me crying. My aunt is a very happy person full of laughter, so her hysterical sobs were confusing for me. Everyone sounded like they were laughing or faking. The crying was so hysterical and over the top I didn't know what to feel. I still didn't believe it.
My uncle is a huge NYFD fire fighter. To see him in tears was so racking. We waited outside. My sister went to see him. I decided I couldn't, not then. Apparently he was blue, I couldn't see him like that. In his sleep peacefully. His girlfriend found him.
After that my sister and I went home with my cousins. We curled up on their couch and unsuccessfully tried to get some sleep. Early this morning, my dad took us home. I curled up with my mom in her bed and slept a bit. I don't know how she is gonna do this. She is so strong, she knows how worried we are.
When I went to brush my teeth I saw my brothers shirt hanging on the banister. He gave it to me last year for a pajama shirt. I couldn't touch it. Later when I woke up again it wasn't there. I came downstairs to see if any friends were on facebook I could talk to. No one was. I found this site and have been browsing it since.
To see my mom and especially dad, the two toughest people in my life, just weeping. I just don't know what to make of it. Family has been calling. My dad has been dealing with it. My parents and I walked through the steps. When we read the seventh my dad broke down. I can't do this. I am just holding on the seventh step knowing some day in a year or two or three it won't hurt. But I just can't imagine it.
I want to skip all these steps and just turn to the good memories. But there is no fast forward. And if there was I would feel like I would be doing him an injustice if I didn't mourn properly. I just want it to stop hurting. How are we gonna get through this?