Devastation. We experience devastation at many points in life. Some of us more than others. Some never survive what devastates them.
The first time anything ever devastated me was when I was fourteen. I was a freshman in high school. Life was life, everything was normal. Then came a day when everything stopped be normal. My brother’s health took a turn. Doctor visits and hospital stays. His liver was failing and so he was added to the transplant list. They gave him a pager and sent him home. He packed a bag and had it sitting, always ready to go when that pager went off. It never did. He was taken back to the Hospital.
Early on the morning of December 21, 2003 I woke up to the sound of car door closing. Then there came a knock on the door. I opened the door to find my oldest brother standing there. He walked straight by me and down the hall to our mother’s room. I didn’t follow him, I didn’t hear him say the words to her. But I will never forget the sound of my mother’s screams.
My brother died at only thirty two years old. He was my hero. He was kind, firm, loving, intelligent. Despite our age gap he was best friend.
Sitting here today I still don’t believe that anything in life will ever rock me as hard as losing him has.