They called and said he was ready to be picked up, I was kind of apprehensive because it had been weeks since I last saw him and I knew because of the cancer he wouldnt look quite the same. I knew his body and mind were tired as the chemo left him too weak to stand or even feed himself sometimes and what he could force down came right back up just as fast. We never were particularly close, he was years older and i was the baby boy, but yet and still he was my older brother nonetheless. I helped him into the back seat, buckled him in, and began the arduous journey home. We talked, well I talked, he just sat there quietly listening to me ramble on about life, love, family, and my obligations as if any of that mattered at this very moment. I looked in the rear view at him sitting there with as patient a face as possible and I said I Love You and for the first time in my life I cried in front of my brother like a baby, the tears just flowed like rain off a wet tin roof. He just sat there, straight up, his restraint laid firmly across his chest and listened intently. He never looked up, never scolded me, never yelled at me like he did when we were younger exclaiming loudly and proudly that boys shouldnt participate in such activities. As we arrived home I helped him into the house and guided him to the room that was to be his place of rest for the next few months until his daughter would send for him and he would no longer be a constant reminder of how life can change so rapidly without warning, without even a hint of danger. Today is the day, one ticket to Chicago I stated as I took him to the place of his departure, his plane leaving in only an hour or so. He was always this towering presence to me so it was awkward seeing him so frail so small, in the belly of an urn, nothing left but his essence and rampant memories of a childhood gone by way too fast and a life cut way too short. I looked up again from my downward stare and kissed the urn again before placing it in a box and sealing it tightly making sure to pack it with plenty of blankets as the Illinois winters can be quite harsh he had always hated to be cold. As I returned to my truck and sat down I sobbed uncontrollably for the day was October 15th, his birthday, and he never made it the few months it would have taken to see it. My brother died of Non- Hodgkins Lymphoma, not breast cancer but cancer all the same, as you wear your pink ribbons please dont forget about my brother and all the other cancers that dont get front page news but are tearing families apart all the same. Happy birthday bro, I love you with all my heart, as mournful as it may be. #RIP James Pops Curry Shacuana Sonja Elmer Catherine Candace Tuesday Krystal Gaylon Darrell Leonard Curry
Posted on: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 09:20:25 +0000
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