Nothing I have experienced in my 37 years could have prepared me witnessing my brother in ICU, hooked up to a breathing machine, with arms restrained. I mean nothing. How does one not shed a tear? How does one not go up to their brother and say, "I'm here, Brother. I'm here. I'm always here." with tears in their eyes, with a knot in their throat? How does one not run to his beside, when you are getting ready to leave because he is trying to grasp your hand, trying to say something? "I'm here, Brother. I'm here. No, don't talk. It's okay. I love you, Brother. I miss you. Please, please, get better. I need you, Brother."
This is hard. My heart hurts all the time. I want to puke my insides out all the time. It took so much strength to not carry my brother in my arms when I left him yesterday.
This is all I have to say.