Love Is Not Dead, Just My Brother

I absolutely love Facebook memories, especially the ones for my brother Donnie. He would always send the sweetest messages and they always had a flower as the picture, so I get one today from November 25th 2019. I apologize for being a person who finds saying things easier in letters than voice. Sometimes I guess it's because I feel no matter what I say or how much I've changed from the old D, I feel that everyone only sees, remembers the way I used to be. I wanted to say that I admire everything you have done with your life and things you've accomplished. I'm proud of you. Everything you do for me and have done for me is appreciated to the utmost. It will not be forgotten. Thank you, and I love you. Always. Stay sweet. A year ago today, I announced that I was starting a podcast. One of the things people don't know is that my brother Donnie is what gives me strength to say what I want. I've talked about my brother from time to time on the podcast, but if it's your first time tuning in, my brother Donnie passed away October 24th 2021. It was by far the worst loss I've ever experienced. My brother Donnie said what he wanted and did what he wanted. It was one of the things about him that drove me absolutely insane. He was the black sheep of our family, the troublemaker. He burned every bridge with almost every family member. It seemed like he had no regard for anyone and always got what he wanted. My entire childhood revolved around Donnie. Donnie did this, donnie did that, donnie's in trouble, donnie's in jail, donnie's out. Donnie's going to prison, donnie's out again. But really I didn't help any either. I was just as much as an enabler as anyone who let Donnie stay with me every time he needed a place to crash. But for me it was what I was taught due for Donnie, so I would do it. And then it made me resentful, more so as an adult than a child. As a child I was just jealous. I didn't understand why Donnie got all the attention and I was just bystander. As a child I became the stereotypical people pleaser. I did everything that I was told, because Donnie didn't. I made sure I cleaned my room and did all the chores, because Donnie didn't. I tried very hard to be the exact opposite of him. I wanted to be the good daughter. Now this got me some attention. But it also backfired. The better I did, the less people worried about me. It was made very clear that Donnie was the one that needed the most love and attention. I was going to be okay, or was I? I would like to say that Donnie didn't care about what people thought. But I know he did, because even though on the outside we were polar opposites, on the inside we were exactly the same. Every once in a while, donnie would let me in and share his true feelings. The only difference between us was that he expressed himself when I stayed quiet. Now anyone can go read on Donnie's Facebook page and see his rants. I used to hate reading his posts. I would call him and argue about what he said online. Why would you say that? That's not true? But you know, we all have our own perceptions. We grew up in the same house with the same parents, but he saw and felt something completely different. Or did he Just like me? Donnie felt alone and like no one cared. He felt that he was unlovable and unable to love at the same time, always left to fend for himself, donnie hated life and most everyone in it. He was just as angry as me inside, he just expressed himself differently. He talked back and gotten into trouble. He raged against any and everything that he could Me. I stuffed it deep down like a good little girl and kept my mouth shut. What everyone saw on my brother was someone angry and always in trouble. But that's not who Donnie really was. He was kind and he was loving. We used to talk all the time. He would drive out of his way to come take me for lunch. He would go to hams on late nights just for fried cheesecake. We had the same exact sense of humor and we can laugh about something without saying anything. We used to have a lot of fun together. It all changed after Donnie's motorcycle accident where Donnie almost died. He was in South Carolina and there's not a helmet law. The kid was taking his parents rental car out for a joy ride, not paying attention, didn't see Donnie on the motorcycle and hit him. The paramedics said that Donnie was gone for approximately one minute. He was resuscitated and rushed to the hospital with significant internal injuries. When we arrived Donnie was sedated. He had severe road rash, a few broken ribs, two broken jaws and his brain was swelling. Rapidly they needed to place Donnie into a medically induced coma. From the very beginning I was Donnie's medical power of attorney and after months in the hospital and inpatient rehab, donnie came home to live with me. This is where our relationship changed. Donnie was no longer like a brother. Not only was he not himself suffering from a brain injury and memory loss, but it was like I had another child to care for, a rebellious teenager wanting to do everything for himself and very frustrated when he quickly realized he couldn't. I know Donnie hated relying on me to care for him. I had to remind him when to shower, when to brush his teeth and even to eat. He could barely remember what he was doing from one moment to the next, but eventually he got better and better enough to go back and live on his own. As the years went by, we slowly drifted further apart. Donnie's brain injury made his already angry personality more volatile. At times it was very difficult to be around him. I seemed to make him angry and I also seemed to be an easy target. We constantly argued, mostly because I'm telling him things that he shouldn't be doing, and he didn't like it. Finally, I gave up and I just sat back and watched his life implode. Donnie only came to me when he absolutely needed something and he knew that ultimately I wouldn't say no. It would come with a lecture that I would be there helping, like the true enabler that I was. But he was my brother and I loved him no matter what. I didn't want to see him suffer or live the life that he did, but he didn't listen to me or anyone really. I just had to be there when he needed me. About two years before Donnie died, he was in another motorcycle accident. It wasn't bad, but it sure as hell had me going through some flashbacks. I made it to the hospital and he was okay. Of course, it came with a completely unbelievable story, followed by him needing a place to stay. He came to live with me for a few months. This was after Tom died, so I definitely didn't mind the company. I would watch Donnie every day. He wasn't the same. The years had not been good to him. His mind was lost in so many ways. He lived in a world of stories. He told himself to survive and just to make sense of life. In so many ways he was still like a child. And there is my big brother, the big badass, donnie Sweat, looking defeated. It broke my heart. I watched him one day sitting in the recliner drawing, quiet and content, with a bundle of pens and pencils wrapped in a rubber band. He was always drawing or writing something. I think this is what brought him a little bit of joy. He was happy to explain to me about his favorite pen and then offered it to me. He said it was the best pen in the world and I didn't use that pen until after he died. Everyone thinks I'm so nice and I'm such a good sister, but I wasn't Sure. We had our moments when it was just me and Donnie against the world. But in the end I was not. I was cold and I was mean. I was in a place where I wasn't happy in my life, still grieving Tom and not finding any meaning at all. Tired of listening to Donnie complain, getting in trouble and me still belling him out, having to be in control of his finances and him constantly asking for more. I knew what he was doing with his money and he would just lie, lie, lie. I was so fed up after all these years that I was at a breaking point, all I had ever done for him, and felt so unappreciated and just constantly used. Did he even care that I was grieving? Did he even care that I was sad, lonely and depressed? Did he even care how miserable I was. I know for a fact that I made Donnie feel like he was a bother. I let him know how annoying his long ass messages raining about how horrible he has it, and he's not even once considering what I'm going through. That's not how you should treat someone that you love. So I tried to do better. I tried to be just a little more understanding and I tried to remember the brother that I once had. He was still in there somewhere. I remember our last conversation. I was taking him some money and I offered to take him to the store, but he said no. He seemed very happy that day, actually in a really good mood. He had just went fishing the day before with our dad and he caught the biggest bass. As he was telling me about this, his eyes lit up and the expression on his face was like a little kid, and this is how I remember him. Before I pulled off, I said I love you and he said I love you too. Then, shortly after, just the day before Donnie died, me, my son and Donnie's daughter were going to see my mom. I thought about calling Donnie and asking him if he wanted to go, but selfishly I didn't want him to ruin my day. I could only handle being around him for so long before we started to fight. When Donnie died, I was so angry at him not just angry, but infuriated, I feel like that's a better word to describe it. I was so pissed that I was left to clean up Donnie's mess literally cleaning out his mess from where he was staying, playing in his funeral and dealing with our mom and his kids again having to be responsible to take care of everything for Donnie. It took me a minute, but I realized I wasn't angry at Donnie. I was angry at myself. I was angry because I could have done more. I could have listened more, I could have paid more attention. I could have spent more time with him. I could have invited him to come back and live with me. I thought of every what-if scenario there was. I was so caught up in myself and my own grief that I wasn't paying attention to the signs, signs that I ignored. I ignored because I didn't want to be bothered. Now I know in my mind that there is nothing that I could have done to save my brother, but my heart is filled with such guilt and regret that it's overpowering sometimes and I feel like I've learned so much about my brother and his passing just going through his things. I've listened to all the M&M albums to try and figure out his obsession, and listening to the lyrics breaks my heart to know that Donnie related so much. I go through his pictures and his letters that he's written and I see how much love he had for others. It's funny how all the things about my brother that drive me crazy when he was alive are all the things that I admire about him now that he's gone. I want you to do me a favor Go hug your brother today, because I can't hug mine and tell him you love him just for me, because, after all, love is not dead. That's my brother.