Saying Good-Bye to my Brother
It’s been about 14 years since I’ve seen or spoken to my little brother; I found out yesterday that it was also the last time I’d get to.
His mental health issues and addictions increased the ever widening gap between him and I, and tested (and ultimately broke) his relationships with all 3 of his sisters. He and I were close, and in retrospect, my enabling was the wedge that destroyed our bond.
From the time he was 16, up until he walked away from me, I looked after my brother. When he first discovered drugs, and ended up owing a lot of money to the wrong people, he came to me. He got clean, he got a job, he started over. When it all went wrong again, he came back.
It became our dance; he just needed someone to believe in him and I just needed him to be ok, so we both pretended.
From supporting him for over a decade, and being his go-to person, our relationship ended with what would be a last, horrible conversation. He went on to live with each of my sisters for periods of time, never finding his footing or his place in this world. No peace for a tormented mind.
DNA matching closed a cold missing persons case — my little brother committed suicide in October 2019.
I hope he is at peace and rests well, and I hope that someday I can forgive myself for not being able to save him.
