Would it Have Mattered?

My brother's message scared me once I had a decent signal and could listen to it.  However, I wasn't completely prepared for the days to follow.

We can't change things that might have been meant to be, but it doesn't make it any easier. His goal was to remain hidden, not wanting to be found. He'd reached some end, couldn't dig his way out of whatever he'd gotten himself into, and aimed to hide, much like a dog or cat when they know their end is near. 

I'm sure that, even if I'd heard his message earlier or, more so, answered when he'd called, his mind had been made up. Though ten years apart in age, he and I were alike in some ways, and when his voice said "I thought you would understand" at the end of the message, I knew something terrible had happened.


 

After two days of searching by the family and many volunteers, his body had been found. By then we all knew. It was in our family already. One successful suicide, two confirmed attempts and I'm sure several other fails that'll never be admitted to. There were eight of us originally. One passed away from a questionable illness decades ago and now two by suicide, leaving five grown maladjusted, emotionally stunted siblings, the majority of whom no longer get along. We're not unlike functioning alcoholics, living our lives clouded by various states of mental deficiency instead of drink.

I'll always wish I had one more day with my youngest brother. I'm certain I wouldn't have been able to change his mind, but I would certainly have tried had I known he was that close to the edge.


Yes, this is real. It's been some years now, but it's never gone away. Thoughts of this were recently refreshed when my wife put an underripe avocado in a bag to ripen. 


Comments

  1. BobMay 27, 2024 at 5:42 AM

    Sorry for your loss;l even though it may have been years past, the wound can still be fresh.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Rachel @Waves of FictionMay 27, 2024 at 8:32 AM

    I'm so sorry you've had to go through so much sadness! My heart goes out to you and your family!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Mary KirklandMay 27, 2024 at 4:08 PM

    Oh that is incredibly sad. I'm so sorry for your loss.

    ReplyDelete
  4. ColetteMay 28, 2024 at 6:49 AM

    I've had a few suicides in my family. It's rough. But ultimately I had to accept that there was no other path for them, and it was their choice. Still, the survivor pain is hard.

    ReplyDelete
  5. BohemianMay 29, 2024 at 6:41 AM

    Oh my, I'm so very sorry. Suicidal ideology runs in our Family too and I once had a near attempt, so I can see it now from both sides. Despair, for whatever reason, and hopelessness, are a terrible Space to Hold. Big Hugs. But I can see the Bagged Avocado and Note were a Trigger. So sorry, even after all this time... but, glad to see you active in the Land of Blog again my Friend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Darla M SandsMay 31, 2024 at 12:38 PM

      I cannot imagine experiencing this with such a close family member and sorry an innocent action triggered this memory. Best wishes, my dear.

      Delete
  6. Mr. ShifeJune 6, 2024 at 8:22 AM

    Wow. I am so sorry, pressfortime. My condolences to you and your family. My mother's side of the family has a lot of mental illness problems and some have fared better than others. I am glad mental health is more mainstream these days but I still feel like it isn't as accessible for those that need it.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Rajani RehanaJune 8, 2024 at 8:40 AM

    Great blog

    ReplyDelete
  8. Rajani RehanaJune 8, 2024 at 8:40 AM

    Please read my post

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

(Cruisin' on the) Beer B(l)oat

Image
  My wonderful, loving, caring much younger wife has helped me over the years convert my beerlove from an almost-12-pack-a-night cheap lite shit habit to a more refined occasional local-microbrew-or-two per week one, and my health's all the better for it.  Honestly.  I'm healthier and feel better in my fifties than I did in my twenties and thirties thanks to her.   Between the above-mentioned habit shift and an almost 80 lb. weight loss over a few years I quite literally owe her my life.  Stepping on our scale is a morning routine, and this morning I found myself feeling bloated while undressing for my shower.  Yesterday we picked up a sixer of one of many awesome local Octoberfests (wifey's a fiend) now that they're coming out, and we each sipped a couple while Netflixing and enjoying an intensely heavy thunderstorm.   So this morning I stripped naked and, after observing my paunch in the mirror reluctantly stepped on the old honesty meter.  Disappointed? Sure, but I k
Read more

Paying Tribute to What, I'm Not Exactly Sure

I'm trying to determine whether this is a record review, a rant or a sad nod to a failing memory- I've had a love/hate relationship with Elton John since the early seventies.  I wish I could remember which of his fantastic hits was the first I'd heard, or where/when, exactly, I heard it.  Sadly, my brain has failed me over the years, and these are among the memories that have slipped into a void, never to be retrieved. I used to be the proud owner of a gargantuan vinyl collection, a good portion of which was the majority of Elton's catalog.  One of the very first albums I bought was "11-17-70", his first live album, broadcast by WABC in New York.   "Sixty Years On", one of my all-time favorites, is a fantastic tune which takes the studio version 10 steps further in my opinion, though both versions have their own qualities. My opening sentence is only partially true.  I've actually loved Elton's music since day one, with the exception of parts
Read more

Are You Afraid of Dying?

  Are you afraid to die?   During a recent hike I thought about this, and the notion has taken up residence in my head since then.  A trail my wife and I were on had a section that was quite hazardous with slick, moss-carpeted rocks and a steep downward slope on one side.  As happens often my imagination got the best of me, and I envisioned myself slipping on the rocks and dropping over the edge, my scream echoing off the surrounding mountains we'd been admiring only minutes earlier. I imagined the pain my death would cause my wife and children, and the horror my wife would feel seeing me disappear, my screams most certainly haunting her for eternity. I suppose I'm not afraid to die; the older I get, the more I think, "Well, when it's my time, it's my time."   I think what actually scares me is dying a painful death.  That makes me a sissy, sure, but there you have it.  The pain, and also- and this is probably ridiculous- the idiotic concern that the way I die
Read more