Roger, my big brother.
As I sit here cuddled up with my dog (in his dog bed…one of my favourite places, not gonna lie!) early in the morning, knowing that the blog I am about to write may not be an easy one.
In preparation for writing this blog I wanted to use my favourite picture of my brother (pretty much sums him up) it was the picture that was on the big screen at his funeral. I didn’t have that photo on my computer so I have to grab the flash drive where the photo presentation that was played at his funeral lived – it is sticks out of my computer like a sore thumb. I haven’t watched it since the funeral, not sure that i want to be be totally honest, but somewhere deep within me does. I miss him.
I saw my older brother like the pillar of our family, once both our parents had died. Even tho Mike my birth father wasn’t ever really present in my life, he somehow was still a link.
Ill never forget the day when I picked up the phone and it was my sister in law on the other line “Charity, something has happened to Roger, something is wrong with him. They found a mass in his head the size of a tennis ball and they are putting him in for emergency surgery tonight”.
My brother was a truck driver and often was all over North America, this day he was just outside of Montreal, Canada. He had a severe headache and had pulled his truck over, he got out of his truck and sat on the grass. The last thing he remembered was a man asking him in his french accent “ambulance?”
We arrived (Pearl, myself and my other brother Luke) shortly after the surgery, while he lied in his bed in a comma, with his head stitched from the top to the bottom, a flap large enough to open him up and remove that tennis ball – the doctors told us we would be lucky if he woke up. Well a few short hours later, he did. He was totally confused as to what had happened he didn’t even know that his head had been opened up, he was looking at his stomach trying to find the cause. This began the journey of his last year a half had here with us.
Now, if you have ever known someone with brain cancer, it can be a challenge for the loved ones around them. Not only because you have to watch the struggle they go through but also because they become someone different then you have ever known, and being able to decipher the man from the disease becomes the challenge.
That time seemed like a blink of an eye.
It’s funny how when we have experienced loss more then once, its almost like muscle memory, you tend to cope the same way you did with the previous loss’s. Looking back I can now see that the story I told myself during that time, was the same one I had told myself with my mother and father. “Be strong for those around you” & “Don’t think about this, I don’t want to cry” which was really me not wanting to feel the pain and loss (I will expand on this in a later blog about my dog, Diesel).
My brother had this amazing ability to make people laugh and get the party started! He also made people feel very welcome. I think this is a quality that came from our mother and she passed it to all of us kids. I will forever be grateful to Roger who taught me to laugh like no one was looking (he really did not give two shits about what others thought about him, so as far he was concerned he wa going to have a good time, most of the time).
Even in the last few days that my brother was here, he was lying in the hospital bed making everyone around laugh because of the funny and crazy shit he would say. I miss my brother, his laugh, his hugs and just his way of being (all the stupid shit he would do, you would never really know what he would pull next).
Until we meet again Rog, I love you xox