I wasn't really sure when or if I was going to write on this blog again. But this morning, I was inspired by my big brother Marc's honest and courageous post on his blog (http://www.marcsoniadream.blogspot.com/). On October 22, 2009, my big brother Tommy passed away. It sounds odd saying passed away because it doesn't really embody the shock, pain and unexpected nature of his passing. Passed away, to me, draws images of someone old - lying in a bed, surrounded by loved ones. Passing away usually follows a long illness with death as a foreseeable consequence. Passed away paints a picture of acceptance. No. Passed away doesn't fit at all.
Two weeks before he left us, I was sitting across from him in IHOP eating breakfast at noon. Three days before he left us we were chatting on the phone about my car trouble and sending text messages about family gossip and television shows. We thought he had a cold but it turned out to be pneumonia that spread too quickly and too fast and claimed my strong brothers life. On October 22, I watched my brother take his last breath and with it went any delusion that I may have had that life - my life and those of the people I love are anything but temporary.
My brother was an NYPD Detective, he was a strong, intelligent, imaginative, sensitive, funny and an amazing man. He was my protector and as he used to say - my twin born ten years earlier. We shared the same blood and flesh. We had many of the same mannerisms and good or bad my brother was never a stranger to me. I understand why he did the things he did, why he said the things he did and I loved him for it all. There were few things in my life that I was prouder of than being Tommy and Marc's kid sister. I knew that if I needed him I wouldn't have to ask and he would be there to protect me. There are so many things in this world that are scary and my brother made me feel safe and protected. He made me feel loved and valued. Between my two brothers, I never questioned my worth as a woman or how I should expect to be treated by men.
My brother was funny. He would observe and didn't say much - but he could deliver a one liner with a smirk that would make me laugh even thinking about it days later. My brother was a true individual. While other 80s babies were learning the latest hip hop dance, my brother was belting out songs by Elvis, Frank Sinatra, Prince and George Michael. He was a romantic - who loved the idea of falling in love. He had a candle in his kitchen that he was saving to light the day he got married - even though he wasn't even engaged. He was a conspiracy theorist, he believed in things you couldn't see, he could get lost in a video game, comic book or sci fi flick and talk about them as if all of the characters were real. He was an explorer. He would take rides in his Mustang just to see a waterfall or a unobstructed view of a full moon. He loved his family. He was looking forward to his nephews being old enough to take to Disney world. He couldn't wait to be the cool uncle that got his nephews the coolest toys and latest games. I was surprised every time I saw Tommy with Isaiah at just how much they took each other, at how affectionate he was. They even shared the same dimple. I would give anything to hear my brothers voice again, see him play with my son, or just watch a movie with him in my moms living room as we did every time I came to New York for a visit. I took him for granted. I imagined us all old together - playing each other in old video games, fighting over who my mom would live with. Waking up everyday in a world that he isn't a part of just doesn't feel right. Ever since my mother called me Wednesday to tell me he was in the hospital, I feel like I have been sleep walking in a nightmare. I know that I will wake up soon and the life I am living will be the same temporary life that it was before he left us - but I know this gaping hole in my heart will never close. I do promise to honor my brother and remember his funny jokes, his spirit and make sure my son and nephew know their uncle. As much as I want him back, I find comfort in knowing that when I die, I will see my brother again and hopefully, he will be waiting for me to take me for a ride in his Mustang through the clouds. I love you, Tommy and I will miss you with every breath until we meet again.
2 comments:
Tiara, this is a beautiful tribute to your big brother. That you were able to sit down and write this shows how strong you are. I pray that God will continue to give you the strength you need.
Your words brought me to tears. I guess it's going to be this way for quite some time. We should all hope that we accumulate such love and devotion during the course of our lives. Tommy will always be loved, missed, and blessed. We've got to hold onto his spirit and each other, and the belief that somehow, we will see easier, less painful days.
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