Month: March 2014


Posted on Updated on

By Angel Simmons ©

Most days it doesn’t bother me.
I can move through life without the sadness on my chest.
I meet people who have suffered the same loss and they appear to be doing fine.
So I adapted… and I just “do fine”.
But then the wind changes its direction. And I am left with having to explain what’s wrong with me.
I lost my brother almost 15 years ago.
Time does NOT heal pain. Let no one feed you that lie.
Yesterday I saw an old video of my family. I began looking for him on the screen because I know he was there.
Then I remembered… he was in the washroom most of that night- attempting to hem his pants himself.
It made me chuckle a little. Then I wanted to curl up and cry.
In my prom day video, you will find him interrogating me on my plans for the night.
He threatened to follow me and said he’d be waiting when I got back home.
He didn’t even live there anymore!
If I watched it now, I’d likely be inconsolable for a while.
God, how I needed him in my life! Lord, how I STILL DO!
I’m certain I’d be married by now. I know that sounds crazy…
But MY brother would have NEVER allowed me to settle for anything less than I was worth.
He would have screened and re-screened, put his foot down, and pleaded his case.
He would have made SURE that I knew I was beautiful… And I wouldn’t have needed to hear it elsewhere.
He would have protected me from the dangers I blindly walked into, and covered up a few of my messes.
It wouldn’t have taken me so long to finish college.
He would have pushed me to be GREATER… He already knew what I was becoming.
I would have walked boldly into my calling, into the destiny God had for me.
He knew I was different… a “church girl”, an artist. Even as the youngest, I was a leader.
My brother never made me feel weird about it.
In my last memories of him, he was still a comedian, trying to escape from the hospital.
He even made me his accomplice, smuggling in Garret’s popcorn and a corned beef sandwich- “from the hood”.
I haven’t eaten one since.
In a six month period, I watched him wither away, eventually unable to even recognize me. He was only 32.
My mother wept like I’ve never seen, or ever want to see again.
When they disconnected him, I disconnected from life.
I was confused when they called me to the graveside. “The family sits here”, I was told… a front row seat I’d gladly decline.
I’ve never even been back there.
Then I shut down… Anger consuming me… Coldness covering my heart… Questioning my faith…
I tore a hole in everything and everyone that tried to get close to me.
It took MANY years for me to recover, for God’s light to penetrate through that darkness.
For me to feel.
For me to love.
Most days it doesn’t bother me.
But when the wind shifts… I close my eyes.
And I try my best to just “do fine”… so I won’t have to explain what’s wrong with me.

March 26, 2014