My brother was 16. So full of love… so full of life. He was a Sr in high school and was 2 weeks away from turning 17. He had a scholarship for welding. He loved boxing… knew how to skateboard. He was gonna be “the one” who made it, “the one” who made a name for himself, to be “the better one” out of the rest of my family.
I hadn’t seen him in a while, it was about month since I last spoke to him. He seemed fine. He was in love, he was happy, he was… himself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was growing his hair, on top… so he asked me french braid it.. I’ll never forget the way his hair felt in my hands. Never.
I got the call from my sister. “J***** shot himself” I froze… dropped everything I was doing and made my way towards the hospital. The sound of the woman’s voice on the intercom still haunts me to this day – “Code blue Trama ICU”.. All my family and I could do was wait… pray, and hope that he would make it because somehow– love should have been enough.
He didn’t. My parents weren’t even there to be with him as he took his last breath. Me being the oldest, I had to tell my younger brothers (who were 9 and 6) that we just lost our brother. The way they fell to their knees breaks my heart each time I think about it.
We all miss him so much, we all wish there was more that we could do, more that we could say to remind him that he meant something to us, that we loved him with every ounce of our beings.
It’s been 6 months. I think about him all the time, I carry his picture on the dashboard of my car next to the speedometer. That song 1-800 by Logic reminds me of him. It was the “most played” on his Spotify Playlist. He did have a hard life, he got it the worst out of all of us… and I wish so hard everyday that I could have been there for him more.
Jelly Bean, I love you and I’m sorry if I never showed it as much as I said it. Rest easy baby, be a butterfly.
Always, Amanda.