Moments I will never forget.
Moments I will never forget.
Why is that negative moments seem to stay longer than happy moments? They stuck in your memory and feel as if the pain never leaves. I heard its because of our survival instinct. We remember the bad things so that they don’t happen again or at least that’s how it supposed to work.
The moment I will never forget started off in the morning.
I was fast asleep in bed, it was dark still but early morning, when out of nowhere my mom runs into my room.
I get up sleepily as she rushes me off to her room. She says that there is something wrong with Mauricio, my brother.
Mauricio at this point is two years old. Little dude is blind with implants inside both his eye sockets. He later on got diagnosed with cerebral palsy and had handful of other medical problems that didn’t do him any good.
When I get to my mom’s room, I see her husband on the floor with my brother, he wasn’t moving. My mom’s husband was on the phone with paramedics but since he didn’t speak English that well they needed me to translate. I took the phone and the person on the line talked me through giving my brother cpr. I did what I was told.
As I was talking to the paramedics, I turned to see my mom. She was siting on the floor sobbing, hands on her face. Her baby was dead. She knew it and even I knew it.
Finally, ambulance came and rushed my brother with my mom to the hospital. As they left, I went to my room. I went inside my room and drop down to my knees at the foot of my bed to pray. I don’t pray much only because I think its crazy to think that you only go to god and pray when you need something. But I prayed. I prayed so that my brother could come home. I believed that eh would come home so I went on with my morning like any other day.
I showered got my stuff together for school went to the bus stop and got to class. I don’t remember that bus ride at all come to think of it. Hwy did I go to school still? I didn’t want it to be true I didn’t want to act like something terrible just happened, but it did.
I was in 2nd period English class. I had my hoody up and was not feeling great at all. My teacher said something about my posture or what my attitude seemed to be coming off as, but that doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to me I just wanted my brother to come home that’s all.
After English class I went to a friend and asked if I could use a phone. Back in my day we didn’t all have cellphones. I called my mom. She said that my aunt and her friend were going to come pick me up. I asked her about my brother and she simply repeated what she said. I could hear the tears in her voice. I was in disbelief even as I walked to the office. It wasn’t until is aw the tears in my aunt’s eyes that it hit me. My brother was gone.
My aunt wrapped her arms around me and said how sorry she was. I was honestly thrown back to my aunt crying, we NEVER saw her cry.
As we walked to the car my sister looked up at me and asked me if I knew where our brother went. I said no and she said that he went to heaven. I wish I had her innocence at that time just so that it wouldn’t hurt as much. Because it does. Maybe that’s the pain I feel inside the pressure within. Sometimes I wonder if I just miss him so much that it makes living so unbearable.
Writing seems to make it hurt more in some way. My fingers do not want to write down these words.
Maybe that means I should keep going.