My brother, Joe, only 15 months younger than I, died early that evening. His daughter, Kelly, notified me about his death although I had not heard from either of them for years. She said Joe had been in declining health and that his death was a blessed relief. I felt immeasurably sad for all the years he and I did not communicate after our mother's death. This was his choice, not mine, fueled by his addiction to drugs. In response to my question about a funeral, Kelly announced that he would be cremated and his ashes released this spring at his favorite fishing hole at the beach.
The other man did not die, but he is lost to me nonetheless.
Billy and I had been inseparable for months prior to his leaving Canterbury House. I made breakfast for him before I left for work; he was often waiting for me in the parking lot when I arrived home in the late afternoon. I cooked supper for both of us and listened to him talk about his day. Because of his dementia, our wise and watchful executive director, Sally, felt he could no longer live alone. Billy was having more and more difficulty finding his way back to his apartment. Sally asked his brother, Fred, and nephew, John, to move him out of his apartment by the first of February. His neurologist confirmed that he needed specialized care and recommended he go into an assisted living facility with a memory care unit. We all knew this was best for Billy and came together as a team to help him make a hard transition.
Toward the end of January, his brother, Fred, took Billy to a motel room in Mount Pleasant and stayed with him as they waited for a room to open up in assisted living.
Three weeks into their stay at the motel, on Valentine's Day, Billy exploded in anger and physically attacked his brother. When Nancy, Fred's girlfriend, arrived to take them to lunch, she ended up taking Fred to the ER where he was placed in Intensive Care with bleeding on his brain. The hospital transported Billy by ambulance to a locked ward in a hospital in Hilton Head where he could be evaluated. Only Fred, his guardian, can to talk to him in the hospital.
How quickly everything can change! My heart and body has grieved the loss of both of these men over the past month.
Fairy tales have happy endings. Real life is often tragic.
Please send Billy warm wishes and prayers that he be placed in an appropriate facility. Pray that Joe's soul rest in peace. Pray that I will release each of them in love.
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| Winter sunset in my backyard, Cowan, TN |
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