It really is weird being so used to someone in your life, and one day they’re just gone. You don’t see their smile, hear their laugh, feel the warmth of your body against theirs, when they hug you every morning. You don’t taste the burnt toast they would try to make for you. You don’t see the sparkle in their eyes when you would sing to them or ask to dance. The overwhelming feeling of joy they brought all around, gone. The feeling of emptiness surrounds you.

Tuesday, October 15, 2009. He had been sick for two weeks now. The doctor’s gave him enough medicine to tame an elephant. What they didn’t realize was he was just scared. People you don’t know putting needles in your arm, causing pain. Machines, beeping all around. Weird lines, going up and down, up and down. You have no idea what they mean. An environment you really aren’t used to. Your dad crying, something you’ve never seen before. Trying to stay strong he says, “Everything’s ok. This nice man is going to take good care of you. When you are all better, we will go and get in-n-out ok?” That same sparkle you long to see just one more time, shines. “OK daddy.”

Everyone has calmed down, until…the beeping noises you heard on the machines started to beep faster and faster, louder and louder. The up and down lines start to go flat. Doctor’s rush in to help. Daddy was asked to leave the room. After trying and trying to bring you back, the doctor comes out with the news. It feels as if the hospital had gotten so much colder. The news a doctor never wants to give. “I’m sorry, he didn’t make it.” Your vision gets blurry. Water rises to your eyes, almost like the waves rising against the horizon. Then, crash. One tear after another, as if in uniform, tumbling down your face. Grabbing the “lucky bracelet” he had made you, you think, this isn’t real. Pinching yourself hoping it’s just a dream. You close your eyes and open them, trying to wake up. “This can’t be true, this ISN’T true.” He can’t just leave you. You still need his advice, his shoulder to cry on, even his arguments. How could he do this to you? My brother was my caretaker. He made me smile when I was down. He supported me when I was so close to giving up. He hugged me when he knew I needed it. I didn’t know how I would live without him. He was my best friend.

James would always have a smile on his face. Laughing at everything, even when it wasn’t necessarily the right time, he would force everyone to laugh. His laugh was so contagious. When he walked into the room, you could feel the sense of joy fill the entire room. The only thing he hated most was unhappiness. You couldn’t be unhappy around James, he wouldn’t allow it. He would stop at nothing to make you smile. I had to remind myself this everyday. Although death is a very hard thing to overcome, I felt as if I had to not only for my family and me, but for James. He wouldn’t want us to be sad. I started reminding myself of all of the good times we had. Singing and dancing to the Backstreet Boys, making up a handshake that we had forgotten ten minutes later, laughing at our silly mistakes. Realizing all the good times we had was easy. The hard part was reality.

Something I forgot to mention, James had Down syndrome. A congenital disorder arising from a chromosome defect, causing intellectual impairment and physical abnormalities including short stature and a broad facial profile. It arises from a defect involving chromosome 21, usually an extra copy. This just means that James was extra special. He was no different then anybody else, although people seemed to think otherwise. James would always get looks in stores. He still kept that beautiful smile on his face, but deep down I could see that he hurt from it. He wasn’t oblivious. He could feel their eyes judging him. Just because he looked a little different. Things like, “Why is his face like that?” or, “retard.” These things really got to me. Probably more then they did James. Still today when people just throw around the word “retarded” I cringe. It brings back the idea that I won’t be able to see my brother or enjoy his company for a very long time.

I think about James everyday. I even still cry sometimes. But I’ve learned that this is all normal. I’ve learned to appreciate everything and everyone apart of my life. I appreciate everything I have and everyday I live. You never know when it will be your last, or someone else’s last and I can’t stand the thought of feeling how I felt when James died again.