Pain. We all have to deal with it, some better than others. This is the story of one of my struggles with pain, regret and sorrow.
I had always thought that I had a pretty good handle on pain. I was very good at either letting the pain go or burying it deep within me. But then something horrible happened. My brother died.
My brother loved me more than I ever realized. He was human and had his misgivings for sure, but he was a good guy. I was the mean little sister. I picked on him and egged him on in fights while we were growing up constantly. But he always loved me and always wanted the best for me. When I had a boyfriend growing up, he would make friends with them just because I asked him to. Sometimes, he didn't want to but he still did anyway, just because he loved me. He gave up so many things that he dearly loved for me, and I never even noticed... until it was too late.
The last two weeks of my brother's life is a time that I will never forget. He was very sick and refusing care. The last time that he had gone to the hospital started a big fight. We knew that if he didn't get help he would die and I was not happy about that. Even still, he refused the care and the doctors sent him home. I was so upset I couldn't even look at him. I refused to talk to my brother for a few days. I will never get those days back.
Unfortunately, my guilt does not end there. There were many chances that I had to go visit him and I refused. I always found a reason not to. Many missed chances, lost memories, lost precious minutes. However, that is still not what hurts the most.
My brother's last day of life is a day that I would give anything to re-live. He called me that morning. He asked me if I would get a hold of his doctor for him. Being a very busy homeschool mom of five small children and knowing that he wouldn't listen to what his doctor said anyway, I really didn't want to be bothered. I answered his plea with attitude. My mind won't even allow me to remember the entire conversation, but I know that I refused his request. He ended up saying that it would be ok and for me not worry about it. So I didn't. I hung up the phone and went back to my day. I'll never forget his last words to me. He paused before hanging up and said "Hey Steph... I love you" I was frustrated and gave a quick "yeah, love you too" and hung up.
A few hours later, around lunch time I had the strangest feeling to go check on my brother. It was a very strong feeling. I called him and could not get an answer. After trying a few more times with no luck, I called my aunt who lived near where he lived and asked her to go check on him. She told me that she had seen him a little bit ago and that he was fine. So with that news, I let the nagging feeling go. A decision I will regret for the rest of my life.
Fast Forward a few more hours, now it's dinner time. I'm busy fixing dinner and keeping my kids occupied when the phone rings. When I answer I hear my step-dad frantic. He's saying those words that I will never forget, "Steph! Robb's gone!" Not understanding what he meant, I told him to calm down and that he was probably at his friend's house. "NO! HE'S G-G-G-G-GONE!!" he screams. With those words, my life would change forever.
I rushed to his house and found that my brother was dead. I talked to the paramedic, who happened to be a friend of mine from church and he hit me with one last does of life-long guilt. I asked my friend if he was sure that my brother was dead. Surely CPR or some other life-saving technique could be used and he'd bounce back up and be ok, right? Oh if that could be reality. My friend told me that there was a way to determine about how long he had been gone. The estimated time of his death was the time that I had the urge to go be with him.
I do not believe that had I been there, that I could have saved my brother, maybe I could have but probably not. But what I could've done was be there with him when he died. I could have held him and told him that I was sorry. I could have told him that I loved him. Instead, I selfishly stayed in my own bubble, my own little world and didn't allow myself to be bothered with him and his problems. I not only let him die alone but let him lay there for hours with no one with him.
Why? Why was I so selfish? Why could I not love him the way he loved me? So many "why's" that I will never be able to answer. I can speak in the air, or go to his grave, but I will never be able to let him hear me say "I'm sorry" I will never be able to make things right with him.
Pain I can handle. It's the regret that I can't handle. The regret that I cannot let go of. The finality of it all. These are the things that hurt the most. These are the things that even now, 14 years later that I cannot seem to let go of. This Sunday is the anniversary of his death. It will be the first time in 14 years that I have not been to his grave site. He will, as always, be on my mind all day long.
This song came out around the time of his death. Every time I hear it, I think of Robb. I think of the things that hurt me the most. I think of the regret that I have. I think of how much I miss him. Please take a minute and listen to the song. Think of those that you love. Tell them that you love them. Let the little things go. Sometimes, let the big things go! Have a good relationship with your loved ones now. Because one day, it will be too late.
If I could only have five more minutes with him...
What Hurts the Most by Rascall Flats
