Letter 6

October 22, 2014

Dear Jesse,

Once Aimee, dad and I finished squaring up the details at the funeral home, I knew I needed to ask one last question.

“Can I see my brother?”

I could tell the question caught the funeral director off guard. He told me that you didn’t have anything done to you besides the embalming. You were just on a metal rolling table with a sheet over you.

I didn’t care.

Aimee had found you, she had already seen and touched reality, but dad and I hadn’t. I knew I needed to see you with my own eyes without the pressure of scheduled time. I didn’t want the first time to be with a crowd of people waiting to see you as well. I needed to have these moments either by myself or next to Aim and dad. The funeral director said he would bring you up through the lift and meet us in the main viewing room. My stomach turned as I waited in my chair. Within a few minutes I could hear the lift bring you up. Once the director situated the rolling table in the next room he quietly nodded to us from the doorway. Aimee stood up and headed toward the viewing room along with Dad as I followed behind the both of them. One by one we turned the corner to what would be one of the most heart wrenching sight. As we each made our way in there, there was a curtain pulled across the front of the room.

Behind it was you.

I watched Aimee walk past it, then dad, then… then I stopped just before walking through. I turned my back to where the curtain was open and I could feel my legs trembling. My mouth had become very dry and I felt like I could faint. I put my hand against the wall to brace myself. I took a couple deep breaths and all I could see in my mind was you, alive.  Memories were flooding my mind. I could hear your laugh, see your smile, feel the way you felt when you gave me a hug. It was almost like my brain was short circuting. That’s the best way to explain it. It was like my brain was on overload due to the reality it was preparing to see and start processing.

You.

Dead.

I gathered some strength and turned around to walk past the curtain. There you were. My only brother on a metal rolling table. I slowly walked closer and closer until I was right next to you. Aimee had had enough and told us she would be waiting in the car.

I stood there.

Me on one side of you and our father on the other. There was silence. A lot of silence. I noticed how swollen your forearms were. Aimee later told me that was from the shooting up. I gently stroked your head. “my brother, dear god, my only brother, I love you so much.”

The tears started.

I held your hands, kissed them and held them some more. Nothing was going to stop me from just touching you, not even your cold and lifeless body. It was so sad watching our father. It’s like I could see his brain going a million miles an hour. I couldn’t help but look at dad from another parents perspective in those moments. The worst nightmare a parent could ever live through was happening 2.5 feet across from me. He didn’t even have anyone to lean on. No wife. The mother to his child was dead as well. I watched dad put his hands on your arm and with tears building, he asked god to bring you back to life. He asked god to put blood in your veins and give you back to him. I couldn’t bear any of it. I gently said to him, “daddy, he’s dead… he’s gone.” At that point I gathered myself, leaned down and kissed your forehead which after I whispered something to you. I walked around the table and told dad I was going to wait for him in the car. I felt like he could use a few moments alone with his only son. As I started walking out he asked me, “what did you say to Jesse just a minute ago while leaning down?” I turned around to answer,

“I told him I would tell the world his story.”