I lost my brother Aaron yesterday. He was 29. Everything seemed petty and a bit worthless after the news. It was a shock. No warning. Just gone. I was with him six months ago in Utah. We made plans. We grew up together and went through a lot. Living in Coffee Hall housing estate in Milton Keynes England and then the big move to America (Las Vegas). He would ride on the handlebars of my bike. We collected coins back in 86 and used them to buy a sundae at McDonalds and share it. A fudge sundae. I wanted to be a boxer back then and carried around a ghetto blaster and lifted rocks in the desert. The ghetto blaster had the tape to Rocky IV. A double deck. Over the years I moved around the U.S. and then around the world. We finally started reconnecting two years ago at Christmas in Utah. It was one of the greatest times of my life. To reconnect with all my family and with my brother Aaron. Last Christmas we hung out a lot. We had a great new years together. I was happy to have a small amount of savings and planned to make it to Utah once a year finally. See Aaron and my family every year. I was hoping he would get on his feet and he could come to London and I could show him around. He had it rough in his twenties. He hit rock bottom a few times. I don’t know if he was at rock bottom when he died. My mum tells me he got a haircut that day and was happy. I don’t know what he felt. If he was aware. I wanted to tell him so much more last Christmas. I keep seeing his face when we said goodbye in January this year. And his simple “love you buddy.” I promised not to leave it so long this time. It was really really hard to say goodbye to Aaron but I was sure I would see him again at Christmas. it is still unclear how he died. It is all very sudden. It will be even harder when I go to Utah in August and he will not be there. I also need my family. It will be good to be around everyone. To feel their support and love.
I am full of cliches with this suffering and sadness. It is still very raw. Stuff like: “a huge chunk has been ripped out of me.” I don’t have any metaphors on me. I feel hollow. I felt compassion. I feel great waves of sadness.
There are so many more experiences I wanted to share with my brother. Even when I am eating I am thinking he will never taste what I am tasting. He won’t ever watch what I am watching. It is all gone.
Being in London it sometimes feels unreal. Like he is still in Utah. How could he not still be in Utah. In his room.
We swapped clothes last Christmas. I have a pair of his jeans and he has my jacket. He was so excited to go out eat sushi together in Salt Lake. And his whiteboard had the date of my arrival and “brother coming.”
I am all mixed up. Anger is surfacing. Anger at no one and nothing. Just anger at how he is gone and there is nothing any of us can do.
He was full of so much energy as a kid. Running up and down the hallways for hours in Milton Keynes. He was 2 and I was 12. Always polite and gentle and sensitive to everything around him.
He was a skater in his teenage years and from what others have told me the life of the party. He didn’t fear much. A real dare devil.
My cousin Grant told me how when he visited he went with Aaron to Las Vegas and California. He said they were in a elevator in Las Vegas and Aaron had the idea to stand on their head while the elevator went down. When the door opened an Elvis appeared and they told him (while standing on their heads) this elevator was going up. The elvis said sorry sorry and didn’t get in. They rolled on the ground laughing about it.
He was full of life and energy and humour.
I missed so many years. I wanted to catch up. There is no catching up.
My uncle in Portadown put this up yesterday:
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