I have been puttin’ this post off for quite some time now. I wanted to write it sooner, but I just couldn’t bring myself to put into words what I was/am feelin’. I think I’m ready now. Forgive me in advance if I babble or run on.
I am the youngest of three sons that my momma had. My two older brothers were a lot older than me, the middle one, Jim, was 16 years older and the oldest, Roger, was 17 years older. As I’ve mentioned before in another post, I was not an accident baby, I was a “try to save the marriage” baby, but it didn’t work. Mom and dad divorced when I was 5 years old, when we moved back here to Virginia.
I wasn’t around them very much growin’ up, except for when they would come home for a visit durin’ holidays, summer vacation or when a family member passed away. Me and momma went to Illinois a few times for summer vacation and we stayed with them while there.
In the 80’s, Jim moved his family back here for a few years and him and I got really close. We did things together, I would go and stay at his house, especially after they moved right above us. I was always there.
Roger was different, he was more of a loner with a bad case of wanderlust. I’m not really sure how many different states he actually lived in, but it was quite a few. I wasn’t really close with him until the late 90’s when he moved back here. From that time on, we spent a lot of time together but not enough either, and we became really close.
Jim developed cancer in about 2005 or so due to Agent Orange. He served in the Vietnam war and if I’m not mistaken he served 4 years.
Jim lost his battle with cancer in 2009. Everybody was with him but me when his time came and my oldest son and I was on our way, he just didn’t make it long enough for me to get there. I was about 4 hours away when I got the call.
I did get to spend time with him about a year prior ’cause him and my sister-in-law came in for a visit. He wanted to come home one last time and I made sure to spend as much time with him as I could while he was here.
My oldest brother Roger was a cut up, he loved to joke around and laugh. When he was around cousins that grew up with him or about the same time, he would sit and talk for hours about growin’ up, things he did and shouldn’t have done, just all sorts of things.
Sometimes I would get envious of the cousins ’cause they got to make those memories with him and Jim and I was, for all intents and purposes, raised like an only child, years after they had grown up and left home.
We helped each other out, Roger would help me with momma when I asked or needed him, he would let me use his car to go do whatever I needed to do and he would sit with momma. I would help him with anything concerning an electronic device.
Roger passed away suddenly on May 4th, 2016. I was holdin’ him in my arms and he knew he wasn’t alone, he knew his little brother was right there with him.
And then, there was one, me. I’m the only son momma has left, her baby as she would always call me, and still does if she’s havin’ a good day and remembers.
As those of you that follow me know, I take care of momma, I’m with her all the time. Sometimes a memory will make it’s way to her mind about Roger and Jim and I will talk to her about whatever it is that she has remembered. I have stopped tellin’ her that Roger passed away, to her, he is on vacation at the beach. She somehow remembers that Jim is gone.
Once again it is just me and momma against the world, we’ve come full circle now. The only difference bein’ that I take care of her instead of her takin’ care of me. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.