Story Time: My Lost Siblings
While most are drinking, grilling, and setting off fireworks here in America, my family who does these types of things like everyone else also remembers one of those we lost. I have mentioned my sibling that abused me, but I had two others. One of these other two has a birthday on July 4th. He passed away as a baby only a few months after he was born, sadly. He above all my siblings I always felt this connection too. Hard to explain this when I have said it in the past. How can someone connect to another they’ve never met? The answer is simple: I don’t really know. Perhaps it’s my imagination that has run amuck since I was little imagining a brother that did great things, one that would’ve had it rough like the rest of us, but a pillar of hope when I needed it most. I would even pretend when I was little, that he was this handsome strong man that simply moved away.
As a fiction writer, now, I can imagine different scenarios. Him being a good brother. He grew up to be the kind of man that did his best no matter what was going on. He was the type of brother I needed so desperately that we would’ve formed a bond. He was there hugging me when I was scared and telling me, “It’ll be okay little sister.” Him protecting me at times I truly needed it. No matter how I could imagine him or pretend how he would’ve grown up to be the truth is he never got that far in life. My beautiful big brother passed away from pneumonia early in life. With being diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a genetically inherited condition, this was what took him. For most of what I could remember was that he simply passed away. As I got older, I was told about his diagnosis. I did try to learn as much as I could about it; to understand what was going on with him. Out of us four siblings he was the 25% that had it through genetics.
I am not sure how I or my other living sibling would have been changed if he had lived. I always imagine for the better. Before him, my mother lost another child. She was never told the gender and she doesn’t talk much about this baby. We don’t even have pictures of this child. The loss of her children is a deep wound. She says, “You’re never supposed to bury your children. It’s not natural.” I have always felt this was a little girl, but none of us really know. She would’ve been a wonderful woman; she would’ve taught me a lot. I imagine. She would’ve looked like a younger version of my beautiful mother. She would’ve had some flair and attitude. She would’ve been serious when need to be with a rebellious nature. She would’ve been a beautiful mixture of my mother and her own person.
If both had survived, they would’ve been in their early to mid-forties now. They would’ve made our parents proud. They would’ve been great to get to know. You all would’ve liked them too. Great people the siblings I lost. Beautiful souls.
If you take anything away from this post, if you have siblings, hug them a little tighter next time. If you’ve lost siblings my heart goes out to you. Remember to stay safe this American holiday.