I remember....

Add your memories to this... please. I hope more comes back to me, because this is a short list right now. I'm not pulling any punches because I want to remember everything. Unfortunately the bad things are the ones that are easier to remember.

I remember playing "crab" with Kris and Brad. One of us would curl up on the floor between the two beds and cover their eyes. The other two would jump from bed to bed trying not to get caught by the crab. We all thought later how horrible this must have sounded to Mom and Dad downstairs.

I remember playing "almost crash" on our bikes. We would be in a driveway, and we would have to ride our bikes around and around and get as close to crashing without touching.

I remember playing "spy dive" at night. We would wait for cars to come, then we would flop on the ground in the open assuming they didn't see us.

I remember a morning before school. I came downstairs and Brad was sitting in the dark in the living room. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he didn't feel good and was going to stay home. I was a jerk and told him he was full of shit and just didn't want to go. I knew this because I stayed home A LOT, but I didn't say that. Later, while in my favorite class with my favorite teacher, the assistant principle came in the room and waved the teacher over. They talked about something quietly, then Mr. Abday asked me to go with the assistant principle. When we got to the office, he told me my brother was in the hospital. I think I was on the phone and it was my mom or dad that told me Brad had taken a whole bottle of aspirin.

I remember visiting Brad at whatever place he was put in. I did not feel comfortable with the other kids I saw there, and I felt bad that Brad was stuck there.

I remember Brad pulling a knife on me in our bedroom once, and me asking him if he was going to make me take it from him. I don't know what that was about. I remember having a "I'm just trying to help you." speech, and that I wasn't letting him leave the room and accomplishing that involved pushing him back one too many times. Although it led to nothing in the long run, it was worth it. It led into the next "talk." After he dropped the knife, he sat on the bed. I remember telling him that I was jealous of the relationship my friend Tom has with his brothers. I wanted to have that same relationship with Brad. I wanted to hang out with him and be his friend. I wasn't asking him to change. I do not know why we couldn't make it happen. Brad cried. He pulled a knife on me, threw it down, I bared my heart to him, he cried as I talked, and nothing got better. Why, why, why, why? I could have made something happen. Why didn't I pursue it? I wish I had a timeline and could see what our actions were after that day.

I remember Brad and I boxing. We would laugh like mad and sing, "Here's to you" PUNCH! "Mrs. Robinson." PUNCH! I have hints that we were saying something nasty, but I have never actually watched the movie that came from. We may have gotten it from the Simon and Garfunkle song.

I remember Brad and I working at GEM Products with our dad. I worked HARD and I don't know where that came from. I wanted to tear through everything I was given and make everyone proud of me. Brad was the complete opposite. He had no interest. I can still see the box on the stock shelves that had "Brad was here" scrawled on it with horrible handwriting. It made me so mad because I marked all the boxes ultra-clear because I wanted to make sure everyone could read them. I remember trying to explain to him that, if he didn't like something, the sooner he finished, the sooner he could move on to something different. I wish I would have tried to understand and work with him more, because I was a jerk to him the rest of the time working there. Except when he got his hand wrapped up in the drill press. He was drilling some small parts, and they would heat up. He was wearing a glove because they got too hot. The drill bit caught the glove and wrapped his hand right around it. I was really scared for him.

I remember the bowling alley incident, already explained in another posting.

I remember playing with Brad and Eddie and feeling like I should be with people more my age, but they were fun.

I remember coming home to my condo in Seattle after work one day. My answering machine was blinking. Wow, it was Brad! Cool! His voice was really sluggish and he was trying to tell me, "sorry" for everything. He was saying goodbye. I suddenly forgot I was listening to a message and was screaming into the phone that he can't do this, that he was worth so much more than he realized. When I finally figured out I was listening to a message, I almost threw up... I realized that he may have already done it. I called Mom in a panic and she said she knew, and that he was alright. I thought I would NEVER feel that panicked and helpless and scared ever again... what could possibly top that? I was right, but I didn't realize that, as long as I didn't die from the initial shock, the long, drawn-out grief I would feel today is ten times worse.

I remember Brad telling me that he had fried his brain, and that he wasn't ever going to be able to learn anything new. I told him that he was already smart, and that he just wasn't challenging his brain. Brains need to be worked to stay in shape. I told him that he was not worthless, and that he could still do anything that was in his nature.

I remember visiting Brad in St. Louis, and I hadn't seen him in a very, very long time. I was amazed at how our humor clicked... we would feed off each other and it seemed so natural. It was all at Mom's expense, but we weren't being mean. I remember after that visit, it may have been months or years later. Mom told me that Brad didn't think he and I were OK with each other. I was so sad... I really thought we had clicked during that visit. I thought I had shown him respect and that I listened to him and what he had to say. I laughed with him. It was all earnest. It was all genuine. It was sincere. I thought it was obvious. I had a burning sensation in my stomach the whole visit... you know that feeling? It was euphoric, heartfelt warmth for another human being. Maybe others don't get that feeling, but I am not used to connecting with people. Add to it the happiness over connecting with my brother... my blood... the type and amount of happiness that can cause you to cry. Mine wasn't a warmth, it was a searing heat.

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Kris (not verified)

remembering

Sat, 03/07/2009 - 8:46am

I remember. Saying these words now, they are so very powerful. Just them, by themselves, and then silence.

For whatever reason, life steals most of my memories. Always has. I do remember playing Crab and Spy Dive. I guess I am more feeling based, because when I tried to organize my thoughts and memories in my head I kept coming up with the memories and then how I felt. Like Crab and Spy Dive. I remember felling like the world was great and I was having so much fun, SO much fun.

I remember sitting in the hallway of my apartment in Addison, for hours, trying to convince Brad why he should not kill himself. I also remember, giving him a lot of reasons I felt were good ones and realizing, his lack of value in all of these reasons, was why he was sitting here next to me. At the time he was so tanked that he could not even sit up, and during this whole mess fell down at least two of the three flights of stairs, from a sitting position. I remember thinking if he would just pass out, it would be ok. He finally did, at the bottom of his rolling journey down the two flights of stairs.

I remember the last day I saw him. I remember making him laugh, and laugh for a while, by telling him the clouds were laughing at him. They were laughing at him because he was wearing glasses when there was no sun and it is all just a big game the clouds play, and so on. I remember feeling so proud at the amount of laughter I got for the silly thing. I remember being so proud and excited inside because I was still able to make him laugh. I was still funny. I remember being so glad to just hang out with him. No schedule, no events, just hang out and goof off. I remember him being in Mom’s garage and yelling out to me and Molly and making these ridiculous crude crude comments, and just being entertained by the crap he would say. He was his own person, I love that little brat. I do remember when he left, I wished he could stay longer.

I remember, very well, and I don’t know if I have really said this to anybody besides Mom, but he called me. He talked to Mom, on Monday, 4-21, about the phone minutes he was using. They only talked for a few minutes. Then, about 30 minutes later, he tried to call me. I looked at Mom and told her I would not answer that call. He was all out of minutes and him and I never had less than 2-3 hour conversations. What was he doing! She just told him he had no more minutes. In a day or two, he would have minutes again and I would talk to him. Sorry Brad, I am so sorry. I had no idea, that in 48 minutes, at 10:18 p.m., you would make the last phone call of your life. I had no idea that I would never get another phone call from you. I will never know, if I had answered it, and we did talk for 3 hours, like we always did, would you have delayed your fun and still be alive because you were not as drunk as your were at 10:18? That’s what I will remember, everyday, forever.

I remember, when I was little, thinking he was an awesome baby. I wanted to be a Mommy, and he was a perfect dolly. Not for long though.

I remember spy dive and crab. The fun we all had playing those games. So simple and so fun.

I remember Brad and Molly being over at Mom’s one day, and Brad asking me for a completely honest opinion on a skirt Molly had made and was wearing. He wanted to know what I thought of it. But I had only met Molly once before and here he was insisting, I be totally honest. I f I hated it I should tell her, she could handle it. Well I actually was impressed by the skirt, I thought it was store bought. It really did look good. But he was so insistent that I be totally honest. Wow, that was awkward!

I remember Brad telling me, so many times, how badly he wanted more kids. There was so much stuff he wanted to teach them. He wanted to teach them about every religion in the world, so that when they grew up they could make a choice. He just kept saying how he wanted to teach them. I told him he could teach my daughter whatever he wanted. I also remember thinking maybe saying whatever he wanted was a bad idea and I might regret that. He was so depressed about screwing up his family and it was too late for him. He was too old. Even if he met someone right now, and then eventually, got married, then later had kids, it was to late. That is a process that would take a few years, and he was too old. He wanted a family and more kids so bad.

I remember him telling me how much he loved to learn, and how much he enjoyed just sitting in college classes and listening. He loved learning. I remember him also telling me the funny story of how he got banned, because he passed out cold and snored so loud. It was a really funny story.

I remember, over the years, being so impressed with a lot of the ways he fathered Emily. He had such unique style. I was impressed with him so many times, for so many years. He really put a lot of thought into being a Dad. Yes, he made mistakes. But he loves Emily, truly, deeply, and completely. He was a hands on father, and he established a bond with her, that when she grows up, will still be there.

I remember yesterday, driving home from somewhere in my car. I keep Brad’s picture in my visor, so I can see it all the time. I remember looking at his picture, last night, and still not believing that my brother is gone. It is still impossible. That just can’t happen, because he is my brother, and they don’t go. When my brain, for a few seconds, feels the belief, it is not ok. It truly feels like someone grabs my arm, and pulls so hard an big tear goes down my body and I am having half of me, literally ripped off. I f I don’t throw the belief out of my brain, instantly, I will be torn inhale, then die or live that way. And I do mean torn in half. I only feel whole if I don’t believe it. Grief is a weird process, and I don’t know if my brain and body will ever allow me to have it all. It is strange to me, to have the facts, and still not believe. I still don’t believe it, even though I know it. It does not even make sense to me to type those words, but there are two distinct, co-existing thoughts and voices in my head. They do battle. One says it is true and the other instantly shuts it up and says it is not possible. I hope you don’t call the funny farm to come pick me up. They can’t help me. And you know what, I don’t want it. My self is protecting me, that is it’s job, right?

I remember. That’s all I have now.

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