Tears of Love
I’ve been quiet lately as the dates can be difficult when the memories flood in. I had a really good healthy cry in the pool this week. Tears aren’t easy for me and these were so welcomed.
Losing my brother was one of the most difficult things I’ve gone through in my life and of course I miss him everyday in so many ways. It had been a while since I’ve actually remembered his last day and the details I have never shared with anyone.
My brother had lymphoma, which is a type of cancer. I remember the day he called me in a panic as he woke up with a baseball size lump on his neck. He was working in a different state but I gave him some advice what to do.
That began an eight month journey to a diagnosis for him. He went through so much trying to figure out what was going on. When it was finally confirmed it was lymphoma, I felt kind of relieved. Lymphoma is one of the cancers that has cure rates in the 90%. Seems silly now to have felt reassured almost at the type.
He started chemo and the first week was rough. He thought he would be able to work so he was in CA at his company condo and not here at his home. We spoke everyday and I tried to answer any questions and concerns. Week two was the beginning of a tragic end.
My brother finished his second chemo treatment, collapsed in the parking lot, and was rushed to the nearby hospital ICU. He was in and out of a coma for 47 days. Myself and his husband flew back and forth taking turns each week to make sure someone was always with him.
He was in and out of consciousness but there really wasn’t much conversation as he was very ill. His condition declined no matter what they tried. Here I am, a person in the medical field, knowing what was happening and feeling so helpless. Even with that high 90% cure rate, he was one of the unlucky few that didn’t survive it.
My brother and I had spoken many times about our wishes in this situation of end of life. I was his medical power of attorney and also his personal rep/executor of his estate. He had everything set up through an estate attorney and I knew about all of it.
Sadly there became zero chance of him recovering and the time came. I knew what I had to do. I do not wish this responsibility on anyone. As I signed the DNR which is do not resuscitate, and ordered the withdrawal of all life support, my heart was so heavy. I held one hand and his husband held the other as he passed away, hopefully in peace.
Signing a document and knowing that someone you love is going to die is so fucking hard. My brother picked me because he knew that I would follow his wishes and that is what gives me solace. I did what he wanted, not what anyone else wanted. It broke my heart, shattered me but it was giving him his last say to die with dignity.
I’ve see it so many times with families trying their hardest to keep someone alive even when they’re suffering. It’s very difficult to let go but death is not about us, but about that persons journey to their next adventure and their right to choose.
I stayed with him for almost 2 hours. The staff all knew us and were so kind even when we were a pain in the ass advocating for him. I was the last to leave, but I knew that they had to get him prepared. It was so hard to know I would never hear his voice, see his face or hug him ever again.
I pulled myself together and spent the next few weeks getting everything ready for his services. I didn’t stop until everything was set and planned. It was all very lovely and finally after all the guests left and I was alone with my thoughts, those tears finally came.
This week that grief of these memories overcame me and I added to the volume of the pool. Probably a little bit salty but that’s OK. Tears of love flowing freely from my eyes, so needed and embraced with gentleness. To be let out and to know that feeling of love with my brother.
It’s the Sturgeon Full Moon tonight and the Lions Gate Portal is still open until the 12th. Some amazing energies happening out there.
Be safe!
8.9.25
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