“I want you to live, I want you to love,
I want to go back to the way it was,
To hear you say my name again,
I want to see your smile again,
I want you to live.”
From “I want you to live” by George Canyon
My brother was killed this week. He was only 31 years old. To say that I am devastated just doesn’t sum up what I am feeling. I got a phone call in the middle of the night, my husband answered and I watched his shock and tears as he passed the phone to me. My mother sobbed out that my brother was killed and thus began the worst day of my life.
I sat with my parents, held them in my arms as they cried, took the phone from them when they couldn’t get out the words, contacted the funeral home, broke the news to my brother’s closest friend and then went home to tell my own children that their favorite Uncle was gone, just like that. I watched men that I have known my whole life to never shed a tear, hold each other in a tight embrace and sob. And through it all, I had to adjust to the news that in half a heartbeat, my little bro was gone.
The very last thing I will ever get to do for my brother is create a slideshow of his life story. I couldn’t look at the portraits without crying, especially the ones of he and I when we were younger, and the ones of him with my children. But the saddest blow of all – I had never taken a photograph of my brother with Rylynn. That makes two portraits I will never have that would have meant the world to me.
On the day my brother was killed, my cousin told me she wanted to wait to get her portraits done until she lost weight. My advice to her was do it now, don’t wait. We’ve learned that the hard way twice. When I look at the portraits of my brother, which is all we have left now, do I care how he looks, what he is wearing, where the portrait is taken? I don’t care at all about what he looked like, all I see are his eyes and his arms embracing my child. All I see now is who he was to me. That fun loving guy who took the time to play with my babies and love them like I do. I have that for each of my children but Rylynn. Why didn’t I take the portrait of him with Rylynn? Why didn’t I have someone take a portrait of he and I together now that we are adults?
I want him to live. I want him to come over again for coffee and this time, I’ll pull out my camera and photograph him with my baby. I’ll give him a hug and tell him I love him. I want him to hug my children and tell them how much they mean to him. I just want him to live.
