I remember when my oldest nephew was born. I was 13, but I remember feeling so grown up and important becoming an aunt for the first time. I also remember my mother slapping the shit outta me in church because my other sister and I were joking about how his hairline made him look like Sherman Hemsley and I couldn't stop giggling. Low key, it mighta took for her to knock fire out my face for me to stop laughing. It was that funny.
He was the cutest little boy too - my son looked a lot like him growing up, actually. I remember bringing him to spend several weekends with me on campus when I was in college. All my friends spoiled him and whenever I didn't have him, they'd be asking when he was coming back again. My little buddy. We stayed pretty close throughout his teenage and adult years too. When I lived upstate, he'd always show up at the house to talk to me about important decisions he had to make. I appreciated that he'd come in person - it let me know, whatever the matter, it was something he took seriously. He didn't always take my advice, but he'd always come back when he didn't and tell me, "Auntie, you always right, I shoulda listened to you." And I'd say that I'm not always right, but I'm never gonna give him bad advice. He'd listen about 90% of the time, but the times he didn't were the times I wished most that he had. After I moved, he couldn't make those visits in person, but I knew to pick up any time he'd call.
He spent a few years being a fucken knucklehead and it almost got his ass killed about 5 or 6 years ago, but for the most part, he turned himself around after that and has tried to stay away from trouble and focus on his wife and kids. He also turned to music and has really put a lot of himself into it - something else he and my son have in common. I didn't know until yesterday that they had actually cut a song together. I'd love to call and tell him much I like it except....
My nephew died today.
In fact, he died 2 weeks ago after hanging himself in a closet. The EMT's brought him back but far too late for there to be sufficient brain activity for him to ever resume a normal life. Still, for 13 days, hope tormented my family through a ventilator and feeding tube. Those were removed on Saturday afternoon and my nephew held his own for 37 hours.
I'm angry. I'm sooo angry. And I'm hurt. For his mother, for his brother, for his children, and for mine. But I'm also proud of my nephew for fighting to be here as long as he did. Not for those 37 hours, but for the previous 20 years, suffering through depression and suicidal ideations. He was emotional, often angry, but when he'd get to a place where he felt he couldn't take it anymore, he'd call.....until he didn't. There's a very, very odd solace I find in that. One, that his mind was made up, and two..... well, like I said, the times he didn't listen to me were always the times I wished most that he had.
Love you forever, neph.
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