After my (25M) brother (21M) died I no longer understand life
I used to think life was about experiences, making something of the time we have. My brother understood this too. He was probably one of the most liked and extroverted people I'll ever know.
Every weekend he'd have plans with friends, whether it was partying, playing sports or just hanging out. I have access to his Snapchat memories, downloaded and secured ofc. They're filled with hundreds, maybe even a thousand moments that anyone would classify as core memories. Moments from a life well lived.
We had our ups and downs as a family. Dad became bipolar back in 2010 and lost his job. He didn't tell my mom, and they ended up losing the house at the height of the housing crash. They were left in severe debt, dealing with mental health issues, and there was a lot of turmoil for me and my brother to deal with.
I was always the class clown, making jokes and having a good group of friends. But after everything that happened with my parents, I became the middleman as the oldest brother. The guy who had to fix everything between my dad, mom, brother and grandparents. They were much more temperamental than me, and I found some sense of happiness in cooling down the room whenever anger heated it up.
Unfortunately, being this type of person, with feelers out in every direction to sense when something was about to go wrong, comes with its drawbacks. I soon developed anxiety, became less sociable and took to being the quiet observer, ready to step in if someone needed a "fixer".
My brother, on the other hand, quietly quit the family dynamic. He retreated to his room, played video games with his friends and went out whenever he could to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere at home.
By this point, my parents had been divorced for a long time. Mom had started drinking a bit too much. Not enough that it was noticeable from the outside, but enough that it affected her emotions, both on and off the wine. Irritable before, volatile after.
Dad was jumping between jobs and girlfriends, some nice but most of them a little crazy. We moved around a lot, and it wasn't a stable home. Sometimes things got too much at my mom's, so we'd choose the lesser of the two and move in with him for a while. At least we had our computers and could stay in our rooms, escaping for a bit.
My brother kept living with my dad, becoming more and more frustrated with school. All he really wanted was to spend time with his friends, party and go on adventures. He eventually got his high school diploma (or the equivalent where I'm from) and started working, first in retail, then selling charity subscriptions. And that's where he found his calling.
He'd always been extroverted, and suddenly he had a way to earn money and find success. Something he hadn't really thought was possible for him because of how school frames success. He had more free time to see his friends as well, going to parties, working out and getting really fit. He started reading and was gonna take a math course to become a realtor and then he died.
He was 21, almost 22. He was out partying at a festival. It was 39 degrees Celsius, and he hadn't been drinking enough water. In the evening he'd disappeared from his camp, which wasn't unusual for him. He loved talking to new people when he'd had a little too much to drink.
He'd become ill and maybe confused due to dehydration and wandered onto open tracks that ran straight through the festival with no fence (amazing design). He'd tried following them to get home, as he lived close to the tracks, but went in the complete wrong direction and then fainted. The train didn't see him lying on the tracks until it was too late. He was killed instantly.
This is what we think happened. We don't know.
I've heard from his friends that he was always the one telling others not to go onto tracks when drunk. I'd talked to him about the dangers of this as well, and he seemed to genuinely respect it. The police investigated whether someone had placed him there, as it was unusual for anyone to wander off in that direction, but they found no drugs in his system. Only alcohol.
That was how his life ended.
I gave a speech at his funeral and recited poetry I'd written for him. I thought back to the speech I'd given at his confirmation. I carried the casket with my dad, his two best friends and two of our uncles.
More than 300 people showed up. Basically everyone knew my brother somehow. This was the worst day in many people's lives, young and old, family and friends.
I buried his ashes a few weeks later, after the police were done investigating his death.
His friends still place beers at his grave three months later. There are so many that we have a special arrangement with the gravedigger to pour them out at his grave and take them away sometimes.
Here I am, 25, my little brother gone forever, and I feel like I'm the one who died.
Growing up with all these issues and seeing him overcome his circumstances in his own way gave me something to live for. He was experiencing his life, I was experiencing mine, and when we met up we could live vicariously through each other. We'd had the same childhood but ended up living very different lives, and we could put ourselves in each other's shoes.
Now I'm living half a life, filled with the grief of losing my brother, of my parents losing their youngest, and of my brother's friends losing the glue that bound them together.
I continue my education as an engineer. I continue meeting with my friends, my brother's friends and my family. I continue, but why?
Life is not about material things, but about experiences and relationships. But what comfort is that when relationships end and experiences can hurt so unbearably?
I don't know anymore.
I will leave you with one of my poems.
What answer would you give,
If I asked why I live,
In a world where death is certain,
And love is made a burden.
The same love that we trust,
A heart of gold turned to rust,
Why does death even matter,
If love is rarer than the latter?
How can I ever sleep again,
Dreaming of what could have been,
When I close my eyes and all I see,
Is the darkness where he'll forever be.
So what answer do you give,
When I ask why I live,
In a world where I suffer,
The pain of losing my brother.