This is addressed to my older baby brother Jaco, who passed away on August 27, 2010 of myocardial infarction - or to put it simply, heart failure.
Dear Jaco,
From the day you were born, you were special. You were diagnosed with a rare combination of severe retardation and severe autism. You weren't supposed to walk or communicate in any way. You were supposed to be an infant forever. So when pop and mom took you to the doctor at age 4, right when you started to learn how to walk, the doctor had tears in her eyes. You always defied all the odds. Right up to the last moments of your life.
Growing up with you was something else. I always loved seeing your little bed space under the stairs, tickling you to make you laugh, singing your favorite nursery rhymes to you and hearing you try to sing it for yourself. You could never get the lyrics, but you were always impeccably in tune. I can still hear your voice as you sing "eeyay eeyay yo" at the top of your lungs with the biggest smile on your face. Oh, that smile. That smile could light up a million rooms and start a raging fire in the heart of its recipient.
When you and I were kids together, mom told me that I was in charge of you. I was supposed to take care of you. I envisioned my future with you in it. I always had. I always felt so special because pop and mom entrusted you, their most beloved baby, to me. That was why I always used to spend time with you, sitting on your bed and singing to you - I wanted you to know me and love me, so that if anything were to happen to pop and mom you wouldn't cry when it was my turn to take care of you.
I remember the nights you snuck into my bed, twirling my hair and waking me up. I used to hate it, but now, it's one of the things I'll miss most. I'm sorry I outgrew you. It must have been hard watching us grow up and have our own lives outside of the house - outside of our life with you. We had all the experiences and opportunities you never could have had.
The last few years were different though. When we grew up, you changed. You stopped going to school, you hated leaving the house, you became obsessive and your mood swings more extreme. How I wish you had the ability to tell us what was bothering you, what hurt and how you felt. But as our life with you had always been, it was simply a mystery. You may have changed, but our love for you did not. All the locked bathroom and refrigerator doors, all the hidden bread, all the nights of interrupted sleep was all worth it to have someone like you in my life.
Life was so colorful with you in it. You are the unknowing and unwilling center of our family, Jac. The day you died pop and mom said they felt a hole in their hearts. I feel it too. It hurts to know you're gone, but I would rather know you are in heaven than watch you suffer again like you did in the hospital that night. Did you know that you suffered about 5 cardiac arrests that night? You were so strong, but we were not. When you had that big one, the one before the last, I was holding your hand. I could feel you slipping away. I could see your fingers turn blue and feel the warmth leaving your hand. Do you remember what I told you then? I told you that I knew you were tired and that it was okay with me if you wanted to rest. It broke my heart to say those words, but I love you so much that I would rather feel the pain of losing you than for you to be in any more of it.
Now that you're gone, there is an empty silence. You were the king of the house and your presence was what made it, for me, home.
From the day you were born you were special, because inside your imperfect shell lay the purest and most beautiful soul I could ever hope to know. I am so blessed to have had you in my life. I will never forget you. I will never stop loving you.
Love forever and ever,
Anj
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