As soon as I hear that you are poorly, my brain goes in to over drive but at the same time I feel like I can’t breathe.
It’s a silly feeling as I know that I can breathe. I guess it is because it is something that I can’t control like you becoming poorly yet again. That moment when mum tells me that her and dad are having to take you to the hospital in the middle of the night actually makes me feel sick. Not like disgusting sick but worried sick. Not in control of anything sick.
My brain decides to go crazy, it starts to go mad. Racing at 100 miles an hour. I know I’m your sister so some people wouldn’t understand the responsibility I feel to make sure you get everything you need, that no doctor or nurse ignores your needs. While our parents tend to your every need, I will hold up the fort back at home. When you are ill, my responsibility extends from Elsa and Cleo to also our brothers and sister. It is like I adopt them while you are recovering and become my cheeky little man again.
My heart breaks seeing you so helpless, so poorly. You are not yourself and you are literally swept off your feet. No energy, no laughter, not my little Rory anymore. I picked you up and it felt as if you were going to slip through my arms. I normally watch you run around and you act as if you have endless energy. But this time, you couldn’t even sit up, support your own weight. It is a time of 100 emotions, happiest that you are finally getting the help you need. Sadness because we have no idea what is going to happen to you. Worry because I only know how you are when mum or dad tell me but I don’t want them to always be on the phone to me as they need to be with you.
I go in to some kind of standby mode, I can’t switch off and rest or even sleep. I don’t want to commit to any other plans, in case you need me or the rest of the family need my help. I can’t do anything other than worry about you. I just have to be there. The hardest thing is to try to stay strong, not to cry. Some would say it is bad not to show ‘weakness’ but I go in to mind-set that I have to be strong. I know I am strong, we have been in this position with you before, the hospital, the uncertain feeling. Strong for our other siblings and for Elsa and Cleo. I have to be able to explain anything to them without making them worry more, I should be able to reassure them that everything will be alright, even if we aren’t sure they are going to be. I need to be the one to kick anyone up the arse for not giving you what you need, I need to the be person that has the strength to do whatever you need.
I didn’t think I had this strength until you came along, I didn’t realise I would have the ability to hold back my tears to make sure you are getting the perfect care. To make sure my little man gets better and becomes the energetic cheeky monkey that we all love so so much.
As soon as I know that you are getting better. That is when I know I can breathe.
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3 thoughts on “Dear Brother, I can finally breathe…”
Aww what a lovely piece to write. Sometimes writing it down helps the soul. I hope your brother is ok.
I’m so sorry that he is poorly 😦 this is such a wonderfully written piece and really pulled at my heart. Sending you and your family lots of love xx
Aw this is a beautiful piece to write! Sending lots of love you & your family!