My brother Eddie died on 7-10 at 2:30 in the morning. He was very sick and we all knew that eventually he would pass.
The passing of a loved one is tricky. You want them to go softly into the night without pain or suffering (and he did). However, I learned that the living stay behind and muster the strength to remember the good times and even some of the bad as a way to cope with hurt of the emptiness left by this individual.
I prayed and pleaded to God for a small miracle at the beginning of this ordeal. I asked him to please allow him to get better so that he could see how much we loved him. God gave me just that. Everytime my brother was in gravely ill in the hospital he would pull through but just enough. He couldn't speak, walk, or move. He loved to eat but now he couldn't even taste the zesty concoktions that he had loved so much. We used to call him the human disposal. Everything in his path was consumed. Now he ate out of a tube and the rich flavors that danced on his tounge at one time would never pass his lips again. He was totally incapacitated and relied on other people to do the things that he used to do for himself. I know he would have hated that...who wouldn't hate that? See, Eddie was such a free spirt. He did terrible things all the time but he usually did those things to himself. We were always there to pick up the pieces. We always demonstrated that being an addict, thief, liar, or having AIDS would never stop us from embracing him or the positive things that he brought to our circle.
He was one of the funniest people that i knew. He always put a smile on my face (even if i wouldn't let him always see it). He was gentle beyond belief and was always loving and affectionate. Athletic and very handsome, he always drew a crowd. He drew like a God. His inspiration was usually his family. It's odd because he was always running from us. Maybe he was afraid of loving and losing; like he did so long ago as a small boy when he lost his mother. Perhaps he couldn't deal with the unconditional love that we dispensed everytime he was down and out. But my little prayer did some thing tremendous. It allowed him to experience first hand how much we love him. He couldn't run. He couldn't ignore the actions. He just received everything that we gave.
One of last times that he was in the hospital he and I sat with eachother and talked. I spoke with words, he spoke with expression. Often he tried answer. He didn't a voice, but I understood. I told him of the memories that we made long ago and he laughed like i hadn't heard in a long time. I told him i love him and he mouthed that he loved me too. We cried together and held hands. I knew that there wouldn't be another moment in his life or mine that he would ever doubt my love for him or that of my family.
Not even death will stop me from loving him. RIP Eddie. See you later.
