Since the passing of my youngest child, Brandon, in March 2009, I have been possessed by that loss. It seems hardly fair to my two daughters who live in the shadow of a brother who left a huge vacancy in our lives. They are also my children and should not in any way be forgotten by their grieving mother. Sometimes I have neglected those who share in this agony by my blind suffering.  We have all been affected.

My oldest daughter has a husband and two sons. Like everyone familiar with all the circumstances of our situation, she has her own theory about what happened. She believes it was an accident. Knowing her brother as a sensitive person who also possessed a wealth of strength and self-discipline, she believes his attempt to scare his wife into thinking that he was going to actually harm himself, was never meant to be. Brandon had big hands and was left handed (it was a right sided wound)…..and it could have been that he actually was hoping for his wife to intervene…to plead for him not to kill himself  because this was done in the middle of an argument. I have not dismissed her theory totally. It could have been just that way. She has lost her younger brother to a “clumsy accident” in her mind and it is just as painful.

Brandon’s other sister is 3 years older than he. They became even closer when their older sister married and left home. I always enjoyed the distance in age of my three children. It left me plenty of time to have one-on-one time while the other began school. There is an abundance of cherished moments that I have locked in my heart. Brandon’s sister was away for the weekend when we received word from their older sister about what had happened. She would not get the news until she reached her aunt’s house who would have the task of telling her. We had all spoken to Brandon on the phone “that morning” and he was cheerful. Our daughter made plans to call him so they could get together that evening. She bears the guilt of not calling him when she said she would. We all assume some kind of “guilt” that will stain our very existence forever. Mine would be to tell him that he and his wife should try to make their marriage work for Natalie’s sake. What a damn idiot I am!! Natalie was not his blood child but he loved her like she was. Oh God….how could I tell my sweet boy to stay in a marriage that would take his life? My son was a rare gem in that he still sought my advice and for that I am grateful. I can’t count the times he wanted me to talk to his wife, concerning her own depression and that final time, when he wanted me to tell her how I rose from the oppression of being a child of an alcoholic. His wife had a liking for alcohol that was destroying their marriage. We had no idea how badly it had gotten because Brandon did not tell his dad and I about her problems with the bottle. Brandon was desperate to have me talk to her…like my wisdom could compete with the bottle but Brandon had the faith in me that I could help. I think of this verse;

So it goes, I am always the mother of three.