A conversation with my parents

It was the most we have talked about my brother in a while. The whole story. The call his wife made to my parents about Jimmy borrowing the vacuum cleaner. My mom realizing right away what Jimmy had done. The night before when he stopped by with his wife Sandy and baby son Luke. They stayed for dinner and he seemed distant in a way. My mom telling me about a book that he was focused on that he did not want to put down. That book ended up being about a man who felt like he didn't fit in anywhere. My mom glanced through the book after Jimmy died. What I remember vividly is Jimmy coming to my room and saying goodbye rather then see you or talk to you later.

That afternoon when I was walking down the road with my brother Brian and our friend Richie, mom drove by quickly and told us to go home. The walk home was filled with talk on which grandmother we just lost. We decided it was moms and headed home. I remember my oldest brother Vernon showing up with a blank look on his face. My sister Tracy just crying. My parents returning and telling us that Jimmy was in the hospital after putting a vacuum hose to the exhaust of his car. He took some pills and also tied his hands to the steering wheel waiting to die. My parents had found him before he completed the task.

The words didn't make sense. WHAT? I ran up to my room and I wanted it all to be a dream. I asked myself what did I do to make him want death over his family. It was my fault of course. If I had not grown up needing all of those surgeries then Jimmy would have gotten the attention he needed. It was my fault. My God, Jimmy did this because I was so selfish.

He died a week later. Relatives and friends came by, not really knowing what to say. That first night I remember crying and my sister Tracy held my hand and rubbed my head. I was already a loser in school because of health issues, now on top of that I would be the kid people whisper about in the halls "His brother committed suicide". The rest of the week is a blur. I was in shock. I do remember something about his funeral and my brother Alan and me not wanting to get out of the car.

The next few years were filled with self-hatred. Wishing and believing that I was the one who should have died. I did many things to get that wish fulfilled but I just saw myself failing at it as in everything else I attempted. It took many years, many starts and stops and stays at a few places but I finally learned to forgive myself for Jimmy's death. I also learned to forgive him.

Having that conversation with my parents made me realize how much I have grown and how much Jimmy missed out on. As with me, If he had just held on for just a little bit longer it would have been ok. But at that place in your mind you do not see that. believe me, I never did.

We are planning on getting a bigger stone for Jimmy's grave 27 years after his death. I hope it works out because I would love for us all to be together and have a memorial for him rather then be filled with shock and fresh pain. I want the nieces and nephews he never had the joy to meet learn more about this man who is their uncle. Not that they don't already know about him. We make sure to keep him alive for the next generation. One year we were at my parents house and my niece Kortney, who was 11 or 12 at the time, came out with "I miss Uncle Jimmy"

Yes Kortney. we all do.