Dear God, make it stop

Another major loss has befallen me. My brother has died. I can’t seem to take it in.
My sister called me today at 5pm to discuss me taking her back to Jacksonville now that her visit was over. I asked where John was and she replied still sleeping. She called again at 7 to tell me she couldn’t wake him up. I threw a pair of jeans under my nightgown, sent my son next door and drove to mom’s house 3 miles away. I spent the whole trip praying she was just being melodramatic, something she’s prone to. After arriving, I saw her sobbing and I knew.. just knew.

He was lying on the couch, looking for the entire world like a man who is sleeping. I approached him and checked for a pulse at the jaw… nothing. Checked again. Nothing. Checked the wrist.. No pulse. I held my hand over his mouth. No respiration. Dear God.. I knew from the moment I thouched him. He was already cool and somwhat clammy. I still couldn’t belive it. I checked pulse and respiration again. Nothing. My 24 yr old brother was dead.

As hard as it was to see his body, to be the one to confirm his death, I feel a minor blessing. I had a chance to brush the hair back from his forehead and kiss my brother one last time. He had his problems, his faults, and his challenges, but I had a few minutes to say goodbye to him that I loved.

About 10 minutes later the police showed up. I walked to the head of the driveway to guide them down. Paramedics, dectectives, plains clothes men, coronors.. A never-ending stream of officials. My sister was inconsolable, and had to be pulled away from John.

Me the ‘together one’, as always. My strong supportive exterior is cracking.. I can’t keep this up. After finding my brother, I called my mother’s cell phone and got her husband. I told him that John was, indeed, gone. They arrived about 30 mins later. All the officials where present. We had to restrain her until the officer could tell her that John had passed. Her grief was heart rending. She fell to the ground; we clustered around her to offer love. But guess what. It doesn’t help. All the I’m sorrys, hugs, and kisses in the world doesn’t make this easier.

I have a large # of family here at my house. They are pulling together to try to get through our 2nd death in a week. I haven’t had time to comprehend it yet. I feel like I’m not in my body. I will never forget to my dying day, the way my brother looked and felt as I brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him for the last time.

I can’t cry. Why can’t I cry? I’m dying inside but I can’t cry. Only 3 or 4 stubborn tears will come. I feel like a bad person for not being able to cry for him. I think it’s just sensory overload. My grandfather last Saturday my brother Friday. I just don’t know how I’ll get through this. I missed 3 days of work with no pay for grandpa. It looks likely I’ll be missing more this week for John. How am I supposed to pay the bills? God I’m a selfish beast aren’t I? My thoughts are scattered.. I’m just not all here.

What do I tell my son?