#the insane fucking manager that told my coworker his dying sister who was dying from the same disease hos child did wasnt important

[shadylake-blog]

I never knew this kind of misery could exist until this year. Grief is overwhelming. I can easily say this has been the worst year for my family. Every day I try and give thanks that no one else is dead, or dying (well even that is not true a couple family members not doing so well with their health but they do not have cancer or anything that awful, so I should be grateful right?) I have learned being a better person does not make your life easier. Karma does not exist. My sweet poor baby brother, only 4 years younger than me died in January to start my year off. He would be 22 right now if he would have been alive for his birthday this month. I used to love the rain, now I have mixed feelings. That day I knew something bad was going to happen. I wrote the date two times for various things and got chills each time I wrote it. I watched The Butterfly Effect, which used to be one of my favorite movies until that happened, thinking about how true it was. He passed a semi truck with a car in front of them on that rainy night in January heading west towards the coast, that day it just rained and rained and rained. It was 10PM and dark. I was on the exact same spot on the road 10 minutes before the accident, about 10 miles outside of town. He hydroplaned, rolled and managed to defy physics and come back the other direction and rolled into a telephone pole that hit the drivers side. Completely demolished the car. Passenger was unscathed. He had a pulse for 20 minutes on scene, and was never taken to a hospital at all to even attempt to revive him. Just thrown into a body bag once pulse had stopped... makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. At midnight I realized I had 36 missed calls from my mom and step-dad. I was busy arguing with my controlling gas lighting “boyfriend” about tattoos, he was made that I got them. I was thinking someone got pulled over for driving while suspended or something. I never thought about my brother dying, not once my entire life. My mom blubbered “He is dead,” I said “What do you mean?” “He is dead your brother is dead he got in a car wreck” “No it can not be him are you sure?” “Yes I am sure” (can barely understand her both of us just completely blubbering and hysterical now) “How do you know did you see him?” “The police came and told me, his wallet was on him it was his car.” Now having never dealt with death in any way shape or form, not even a distant cousin, I did not know how to react other than scream. I had a slight hope maybe someone stole his car and wallet, because the passenger was not one of his friends I knew, it was someone I had never even heard my brother talk about. But I cried and screamed for days and days and days. The next morning I immediately went out to the crash sight which was right behind my moms house across a big field and put up a cross on the pole. It was still pouring, I had another one drying at home with his name on it. The scene was horrific. They left all of his costs and personal belongings just strung out all over the side of the road.PIECES OF SHIT. After they let him bleed out. Puddles of blood all over the ground in the mud. His car title, personal mail, the coats he had on that night (the passenger posted a photo of them before they left and ten minutes later he was dying) other things he had in his car like work clothes and nails and tools, he was a roofer. He always had those rings of nails everywhere. Just left out like hes worthless trash. The lack of respect for a dead 21 year old kid you did not even take to the hospital...Fucking disgusting. I went out and cleaned everything up. I could not even see my brother until Wednesday, 4 days later. It was a Saturday night when it happened. Towing company would not even let us look at his car until Tuesday. My step-dad, mother and I looked at the car in complete horror. It looked like it been crushed. How the passenger escaped unscathed I really have no idea the entire dashboard was caved in, windshield gone. Blood all over the drivers seat and floor where they just let him lay there and bleed out. Somehow his weed pipe (that was under the passenger seat in a toolbox he was not smoking and he does not drink) was not broken, neither was his phone which was smashed in between the drivers seat and console but it was cracked. We always told each other our passwords in case something like this happened never thinking we would actually have to use it... That day he asked probably 20 people to go all day including his girlfriend, and he could not get anyone to go until 10 o'clock at night when the passenger had said sure I will go. The last thing his girlfriend said to him was “I wish you would go kill yourself”, they had been together for 3 years. I know that when people are arguing they say things like that, I do not hold it against her but its unfortunate she has to live with that being the last thing she said to him. His steering wheel and dashboard were so crushed the keys had to be forcibly removed, I still carry the sideways key around on my key chain because this has made me completely insane, as if I did not struggle enough with depression and anxiety before this from constantly being broke trying to raise a child on my own and never having daycare. That is a story for another day. But this has really fucked me up. He was not a sibling I occasionally see on the holidays, that’s who I called when I really just needed a friend. We went camping and hiking all the time together. We never sat on our phones when we went so we hardly had any pictures together. He was always there for me as a child and an adult, even though I was such a bitch when we were younger. He was always so good to me, the best brother anyone could ever ask for. I hear these people talk about the things their brothers do them, and I am like my brother would have never done that to me... He was such a good person even when people did him wrong. He had a heart of gold and was so unique he had so much potential and was just starting to grow up. Besides my child, there is no other person in the world I loved more than him. I have two other siblings but they are 14 and 11 years younger than me. I love them but I do not share the same bond and he was my only full sibling. When I actually finally got to see him at the morgue (and I was the only family member that even went to see him the rest found it too “traumatizing” I wanted to see what the hell happened) my stomach sank. It was definitely him. My poor little brother, laying on a fucking slab. I just kissed his forehead over and over wishing I could somehow blow the life back into him... I know that can never happen. He will rot in the ground forever. It was just a slight dent on his head under his hair. His beautiful brown hair. You will never convince me he should have not tried to have been saved. I have seen people survive way worse injuries but they were taken to a hospital. They literally just let him lay there until his pulse stopped. I’m too poor to afford an attorney. Just like my grandpa that I never met, but I have been told by my entire family he was beat by a bunch of police officers and left to die in the hospital. My grandmas mom was overdosed in Tylenol at the hospital and her sister died of alcohol poisoning because the hospital would not treat her. Why are the poor just left to die? Because the poor can not afford lawyers, and they know it. I visited him almost every day for the 2 weeks in the morgue, we did not exactly have 5 grand laying around for a funeral so I had to gather some money before the services. I felt awful letting him stay in a morgue that long, but my other choice was cremation which I do not believe in. I wanted it to do it as my native american ancestors did which was bury him outside in a cave but its illegal. I have seen too many cremations where people get the wrong ashes when the DNA test them and I wanted a proper burial, and a place to visit him. We built the casket since I was not paying an additional 5 grand for a wooden box with pillows in it. My stepdad found old redwood on the farm and various other woods to build it with. My brother would have liked it, because he loved to fall trees. He did it for fun almost every time we went to the woods. “Sis, lets go to the woods so I can cut down a tree.” He called me Sis even as an adult. The handles were made out of deer antlers, his first deer that he killed. I bought him a red comforter set because that was his favorite color. I dressed him in his banana pajama pants and his work shirt, because he loved roofing, and one of his cozy flannels. I hope you're cozy brother. Lots of people showed up to the funeral. At least 100 people. My boss and coworker, my brothers coworkers, all my family, even distant family we never really speak to like my grandpas brother. People I did not know. My moms ex husband (my other siblings father) and his parents came. It was a very sad day, watching my grandparents cry as he went into the ground. Everyone took turns getting up to speak. I did as well, but it took so much courage for me to get up there in front of everyone and not bawl and bawl and bawl. I have never seen so many grown men cry in my life until that day. I tried so hard not to bawl but when he went into the ground I lost it, everyone did. We waited until he was buried and smoked a joint on his grave and planted some flowers even though it was freezing and raining and cold. I really did everything I could to make sure he had a proper burial. The celebration of life was a week later, another day we had to put fake smiles on our faces and socialize. What is amazing is how many people it united. But it comes back to The Butterfly Effect, if I would have said hey lets hangout. If I would have been on that road ten minutes later, because I was right fucking there right before it happened. If anyone else would have said they would go and he would have left earlier. Most importantly, if they would have taken him to a hospital and actually tried to do something instead of letting him lay there until his pulse stopped and then throwing him into a body bag. I will never, ever forget him and will never let his legacy die.