Confronting Death

I had an experience that had been building up ever since February of 2020.  My brother, who was 34 years old at the time, had had a heart attack.  He started to get better from 2020 to 2021.  Unfortunately, he was then diagnosed with cancer again in 2022 after having suffered from this illness 17 years ago.   Throughout the treatment process, he went through surgeries and after one of those surgeries, he had a hard time breathing because of the amount of liquid that went into his lungs.  This made his heart stop working gradually.  It got to a point where it was working only at 20% of its normal capacity.  Slowly, everything started to deteriorate with his health.  His cancer started spreading and his heart started to work even slower. 

To be honest, I was and was not expecting his death to happen so soon.  When my family and I heard of the news of the cancer coming back, we were all devastated.  Yet, we all decided to stay positive and find solutions with my brother.  As I said, there was a lot happening throughout the treatment process, he went through surgeries.  Many surgeries. After one of those surgeries, he had a hard time breathing because of the amount of liquid that went into his lungs which made his heart issue come back, as well.  His heart started to work slower and slower.  

The doctors gave us false hopes that maybe he did have benign cancer vs. no cancer at all and it would go back and forth from this, as well.  Therefore, my brother was in line to get a heart transplant, but because we didn’t know exactly what he had (if it was cancer or not), my brother was not able to get a heart transplant.

My mother and I spent the majority of the summer in Costa Rica giving the most amount of support that we could to my brother and the rest of my family.  It was really difficult for all of us: my niece and nephews not being able to see their father, my brother who could not see his children, his girlfriend who took care of him everyday, as well as my mother who would be emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted after seeing her son suffer everyday, my other brother and I seeing everyone suffer and see our best friend be in so much pain, yet was still willing to keep on fighting and live for the next day.

One day, my brother who was in the hospital said that he wanted to go back home.  He wanted to see my niece and nephews, spend time with his girlfriend, talk to my other brother and I and play board games like we always did, and be able to be caressed by his mother.  He wanted to spend his time with everyone and get better back home.  We all had hope as he was getting better.  

Then, in August, my mother and I had to come back to the United States as I was starting college at the end of August.  It was the first time anyone in my family had to go to a dorm or go to college in the U.S., so my mother and I had to go back to prepare. Therefore, I had to say goodbye to my brother before leaving. Yet, I did not know that this would be the last time I would give him a hug, hold his hand, give him a kiss on the cheek, get my hair messed up after he would rub my head.  I didn't know better and as I said before, I hate saying goodbyes.  I made it short and told him that I would be back so that we could go to the beach together just as he liked it.  I told him to stay strong and that I would keep him updated about everything. Yet, I did not make the goodbye as long as I would have liked now that I think about it after everything happened.

I would get updates from my mom about how my brother was doing.  She would stay positive all of the time and sometimes I would call my brother and talk about everything in life.  I, unfortunately, did not know the severity of everything.  

It was October 9 (Sunday), and I was coming back from Chicago to Michigan and after talking to my father, who lost his mother when he came to study in the United States, I noticed that I was in denial. I wanted to believe that my brother would be okay and that we would go to the beach together in a week, as I planned to go to Costa Rica on Thursday for Fall Break. I wanted to believe that everything was okay.  I thought this especially because the day before my brother was active and talking to everyone and doing activities that he would have normally done with everyone in the family.

On Sunday night, though, my mother called me saying that I should talk to my brother, that he might want to listen to me for a little while. He had been barely conscious for the entire day, almost as if he had been sleeping, and I guess that in a way, he was waiting for me before he left for another part of life cycle. I called and told him he was an amazing father and one of the best brothers that the world has ever seen.  I told him everything I felt and told him how proud I was of him, told him how much I admired him and looked up to him. He was so brave.  He fought through one of the most difficult journeys of life.  I told him that it’s okay to rest now. I told him that he fought enough and that if he was tired, he could leave. God was waiting for one of the most amazing people in this universe. I told him I would see him soon.

What I was not expecting…the next day…

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I was so stupid.  I forgot to put the ringer on my phone…

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I got 10 phone calls from my mother, from my father, from my brother, from my brother’s girlfriend, from my nephew…

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I immediately called my mother…

“Cami…David terminó su lucha…Diosito se lo llevó hoy temprano…”

[Cami...David completed his fight...God brought him "home" earlier today....]

“Que?…”

[What?...]

“Diosito ya se llevó a nuestro luchador.”

[God has now taken our fighter.]

I immediately started bawling my eyes out. I didn’t know what to do. It felt like the air knocked out of my body.  I froze.  I looked to the left, I looked to the right, I looked down, and I looked up and felt like yelling.

I wished I was in Costa Rica the day before. I was not able to be there with him.  I was full of sadness and regret.  The last time I had seen him was in the beginning of August.  So, I wasn’t able to see him for the last time, give him a hug for the last time, laugh with him for hours and hours like we used to do before going to sleep, or even hold his hand. What could I do? There was no going back.

I couldn’t take it.  Emotions took over me.  I couldn’t even talk or breathe as my mother tried to calm me down. I had no one here.  My family in Costa Rica and I were here, in Michigan, no one to hug, no one who could understand, no one to hold me when I could stand up from the ground as my knees were weak.

My mother told me I should be around someone.

“No deberías estar sola en estos momentos. ¿No está alguien por ahí? ¿Llamo a Ankita?”

[You shouldn't be alone right now. Isn't anyone around? Shall I call Ankita?]

I told her: “Voy a ver si está Anisha en el cuarto…”

[I’m going to check if Anisha is in her room…]

I texted Anisha, my friend, and asked if she was in her room and she told me she was.

I knocked on her door and she opened the door with a smile, but it immediately dropped, when I told her: “My brother passed away” as my emotional cycle came back.  What could I do other than just fall on top of her as she almost picked me up from the floor.  Anisha…I’m so thankful…I had no idea who to rely on. I have no one in Michigan and at the time, I was still in the process of making friends.  Anisha…thank you so much for making sure I stayed hydrated as you could start seeing the cracks on my lips from the dehydration…thank you so much for making me snacks and food to stay nourished…thank you for checking up on me and helping me pack things up before leaving to the Detroit airport…thank you for everything…

I went to the airport and stayed in the hotel for a few hours before going on an airplane to Costa Rica.  My eyes were red from the nonstop crying…my heart broke because I knew that this time, I would not see my brother pick me up from the airport and give me a huge hug.  When I arrived, I saw my mother and I immediately started crying again. I ran into her arms. She knew exactly what I was feeling, as she is the person who knows me better than I know myself.

I quickly got ready to go to the wake. As soon as I reached the church, I saw my other brother and quickly ran to him and once again, started bawling my eyes out again. What could I do? He and I just lost our best friend. Between my mother and brother, they held me tight as I could barely walk knowing that I was seeing my resting brother in his casket. 

I see the tears on the glass. I immediately hugged the casket. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.  It felt as if at any moment he was going to smile at me and say hello and I waited seconds, minutes for it to happen. Nothing happened. 

After no more tears came out of my eyes, I just stayed there, talking to him as if he could hear, touching the casket in a delicate way as if he could feel my caressing touch, looking at him as if he could look at me.

Many hours later, I was still on a chair sitting, looking at the casket, talking and doing all of the things I should have done in August before leaving for the U.S.

I was still imagining situations in my head: the what ifs. 

What if I was there on Sunday? What if I had come earlier? What if I had called him more? What if I was here for him more? What if I had bought a ticket to come see him several weeks before? What if…

I sat on a chair. Next to me, my niece and nephews who needed me the most. They needed my hugs, my kisses, my support.  We were all trying to be okay. Were we okay? Definitely not.

I barely slept that night. I didn’t want to sleep thinking about how the funeral was the next day. I didn’t want to sleep as many thoughts came into my head.  I didn’t want to sleep as emotions just came and went. That night, I slept next to the casket, trying to imagine my brother being happy as all of the people he loved were doing a sleep over with him just as he liked it. 

The next day came. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want him to leave. Memories came flooding back. I thought about when I was kid and when he would go on amusement park rides with me, how he would help me with my Spanish, play games with me, watch T.V. with me, take naps with each other, and so much more. No more… What’s left is the memory of him and the love he gave me and everyone else when he was alive.

This special person to me, was so brave, strong, spiritual, selfless, courageous, and a role model to everyone, even those who didn’t know him too well. He was one of my best friends who taught me so much in his short life.  I only knew him for 18 years, but he taught me a lesson of a lifetime. He went through so many difficult things throughout his time on earth and he was so brave and continued to move forward.  And he brought me and my family with him on his journey.  After he passed, it made everyone in the family reflect and change their way of thinking.  We still cherish him and the life we have.

This not only passed on to my family, but also friends that knew him: including my own. Some of my friends would go to Costa Rica for winter break and would spend time with him.  Those friends who were so close to me were so supportive and made sure I was okay.  They made sure to make time for me when I needed them the most and I could not be more thankful. Friends from Chicago to Michigan to other countries in the world, they were still there for me and for my family. 

My brother, David, was a teacher to everyone who knew him.  At the end of his life, the impact he made in people’s lives was evident.  Everyone told him how important he was in their lives and even I, who was still in the United States, was able to tell him how I felt and how grateful I was for him and everything he has left on earth for us to remember him by such as his children (my niece and nephews).  And instead of weeping and being depressed for a really long time: our family is working on doing what he would have wanted us to do - keep on living.  We learned from him and honor his bravery, his strength, his spirituality, his selflessness, and so much more.