My brother {known as a child as Bunny. . .& he will always be Bunny to me} took his own life. He was 38 years old. Been decades, but the amount of time doesn't really matter, does it.
Always troubled, Bunny accomplished great things. Became a psychologist and taught at a highly respected college. There were long waiting lines to get in his classes. All this after surviving a suicidal depression years earlier. I am so proud of him. He was funny, smart, and talented -- wrote
beautifully and no one drew better
caricatures -- at over six feet remained my little brother. Should have explained when I posted the poem, but to tell you the truth, it is hard to talk about. Always will be.
Love and Peace of Mind and Heart, 'Pea'
Bro
No number of brothers makes one less precious.
Losing one rips out your heart and replaces
it with what could be a tear-smeared Post-it
stuck to a lump of lead. Time will come
when you will take comfort in his living
in heart and mind. One day. But for what
feels forever, you concoct scenarios
where you wake and discover he's playing
you. Gotcha! Rat snorts. Joke, dummy!
Side-flickering Huck Finn grin. Saunters
to the fridge, slugs milk from the carton.
Lets it run down the midnight shadow
on your chin and onto a tee that could stand
by itself. Ain' goin' nowhere! Got that?
Belch as exclamation point. Still laughing
when reality hits. If you had just the one --
no one else, no one but each other --
especially if you spent your childhood
huddled together, praying a parental mine
was not about to explode -- or if it had,
you'd find a way to patch each other up. . .
if only the two of you knew, not saying
the loss is greater. The love. Only know
a razor cut to the bone and kept going.
Guilt rubbed extra salt. Acid anger gnawed
over your desertion. My letting mother
stripe your little-boy back and little-boy
legs, all knobs, bike bumps and skeeter
bites, with blood. Anger at our father for not
being there when he was. For no do-over.
Left alone, you ran. Me, I hid my own way.
You, the little brother who took off, leaving
me to Her. I the big sister who failed to
watch over. Bicker, did we? Sulk? Hear
us now. Give it back! Now! Leave me
alone! Cut the candy so you'll get more. AL-
ways. . .liar! Liar!! Get out and don't come
back! So? We laughed until we cried!
Air-guitar-accompanied duets shook that
clunker you paid some farmer fi'ty for.
Man had hauled pigs -- pfew! Clutch
wired with a 'minna-bucket han'le.' By
then, we were not able to get together
much. Before Death, Life parted. So
sad. But we had our moments, didn't we.
See you now, chin clabbered with half-sour
milk. . .sassing Huck-Finn. No belching!
Oh, go ahead. I will join you. Can't
compete, but. . .quit rubbing it in. . .Bro??
All Rights Reserved
Thank You
God saw you were getting tired
And a cure was not to be......
So He put His arms around you
And whispered.............."Come with Me"
With tearful eye we watched you suffer
And saw you fade away,
Although we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Working hands were put to rest,
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the best.
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