Met my goal and Truama uncovered

I reached my goal today, and I am a little surprised by my feelings about it. First, I feel proud of myself. Second, I feel like I have opened a wound that will never heal. My brother died last year. He was 14 months younger than me and my little buddy, and many times my only friend.


Jan 2010 I found out that my brother, Cody, was using heroin. One year after that, my dad calls me and asks to talk to my fiancée, Brad (now husband), just after we had sat down to eat breakfast. I was immediately afraid because he sounded upset. Brad got off the phone with my dad and tells me my brother was flown to the hospital. We immediately left our house. We just picked up the keys and drove 2 hours to the hospital. I hoped and prayed and cried all the way there. I had hoped he was ok and I hoped that he had a car accident. I see my dad in the ICU and he tells me that he was at a hotel with a girl. He was doing drugs with a girl who left and then came back. When she came back he wasn't breathing. She must have called 911. The paramedics performed CPR on him and he was so young and strong that his heart actually started again. I go in to see my brother in the ICU and he is covered with tubes. His brain is not showing any activity at all. He looked so young, tan, relaxed, and alive. I was in complete shock. I then left and picked up my other younger brother, 16 years old, at the time.

My fiancée and I had to tell them that Cody was in the hospital. Then we had to make it clear to him that Cody was going to die. I still feel horrible for telling him, even though I had to. We brought my little brother to the hospital and spent most the night standing next to my brother. A priest is called to pray for him. Right before the priest gets there, I notice a bad smell and see brown liquid come out fro under the sheet covering my brother's leg. I couldn't tell anyone, and for some reason this image still haunts me at night. Then a nurse finally notices and they clean him up. Sometimes, because I have heard you lose your bowels when you die, I think this is when he died. After they clean him up the priest prays with us. We all talk to my brother one at a time telling him goodbye. I touch my brother's hair and I held his hand over and over. I cried with my family a lot. I did not want to leave his side, and did not believe that he was not going to leave the hospital. A Dr. told us that he would probably fade in the next 72 hours and we can have all the machines shut off at that point. We discuss the decision as a family. Ultimately, it was my mom's choice to leave the machines on. How could a mother choose to turn it off? We still had a small amount of hope that he would miraculously get better. At some point we decide we need to take my little brother to our house. He has had all he can take.

The next morning we drive back to the hospital, and we hit rush hour traffic. Halfway there I get text messages from my sister and dad that it is time. My mom cannot handle it anymore, and it is Cody's time. I did not understand. I was so furious that I missed my chance to see him alive one last time. The rest of the ride there was screaming and crying. By the time I got there, they had taken his body out of the room and I didn't get to see him again until the funeral, about a week later. My sister explained to me that I was lucky because he looked so much more worse and things happened with his body because it was dying.

We eventually left, without Cody. When I got to my parent's house, I immediately saw Cody's truck. The window was down and there was very foul dried up liquid stuff. I do not know what it was still, but I imagine it came out of my brother. I also now wonder if its where he actually died. I also wish I knew the whole, detailed story of what happened but I don't want to ask. I had a dream three days before he died that he came to me and apologized that he couldn't stay away from drugs. In my dream, he died from drug use. I feel that my brother and I were spiritually connected, and he came to me and apologized that he couldn't be strong for me anymore. Life was too hard for him. He was too sad and he had to do it.

That week, I did anything I could to escape what was happening. I talked to EVERYONE who was concerned, sad, or giving us sympathy. My parents stayed in their bedroom, and I held down their house with my fiancée. I went with my dad to make funeral arrangements. They couldn't afford it. My fiancé paid for half, and I asked my grandpa to pay the other half....And he did.

I stood up and gave my brother's eulogy. I hope he was proud. After the funeral everyone left, and my family and I stayed as long as we were allowed by the funeral home. We stood by him, holding his hand, crying, and shooing away flies. I looked at him dressed so handsomely in the outfit I had bought him to wear at Kohl's. My mom took and kept his tie clip. I had also bought that for him at Kohl's for his funeral.

My brother was cremated and his remains, remain next to my mom's bed. His tie clips sit on her dresser and a hundred or so family photos through the years adorn the walls of my parents house. Beautiful memories sprinkled with so much sadness and longing for my little brother.

Until a month ago, I dreamt of brother and trying to save him EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. I realized this morning that I wasn't doing that anymore after waking up from a dream about him.

I wrote this for myself and for some support too. I have not shared this story with anyone. My family will not talk about him because we can't. It hurts soooo much that we avoid talking about him or the pain. We are all hurting and all having trouble coping. My beautiful baby boy and my husband keep me going. My little boy is named after my brother. I love him so much. I wish my brother could have been at my wedding and I wish my little boy could meet his uncle. I know my brother would have adored his nephew. He had such a soft, tender soul.