Times like this I wish I had blog... I didn't know my brother Everett. We had different fathers and he's 13 years older than I. He moved to Tulsa for university when I was 5, came back in 1970 to get married to his high school sweetheart, then went back to Tulsa. He had two sons, got his PhD, lived his life, stayed in touch with our oldest sister. I saw him for a short while in 1991, after our sister Karen died. He disappeared after that and rarely if ever had any contact with anyone. He divorced, remarried, lived his life some more. Like most of my family, he was pretty fucked up in one way or another. That's the misfortune of being our mother's children. We're ALL fucked up in one way or another. That's what happens when you are raised by a violent, incorrigible alcoholic. Everett had a triple bypass about 10 days ago. I've heard that post-operative depressions can be horrendous. His was no exception. He would cry and rave that his entire life was a lie, his doctorate was falsified, none of which was true. My guess is that he was on some medication for his depressions and they took him off it for the surgery. I got the call that he killed himself Sunday. It's hard for me to write this. Not because my brother stabbed himself in the heart with a filet knife. But because I'm writing this about someone I didn't really know and truly wish I did. I examined my relationships with the rest of my family and none of us are really "close". My younger brother and I are pretty close. I called him last night to tell him and he answered the phone with "Who died?". Like I only call him when we're doing some intra-family death pyramid notification or something. That really hurts me because I'm a fairly intimate person when I'm not lobbing bullshit here and on the other boards I post to. And even then when I make a friend I stay close to them forever. I have friends on another board whom I've known for 15 years and whom I speak to every day and consider them family but I've never met them in person. I feel bad for what happened to Everett in as much as I would feel bad for anyone who was so tortured they felt it necessary to take their own life. The fact that I can talk about it to you all in detail shows that he was a stranger to me. I have three sisters and two brothers left and I gotta try to fix this. Rest in peace, Bro.
that really stinks. its not too late to establish stronger bonds with your remaining siblings. best of luck.
poor guy... probably was really depressed his whole life... so sad... but as far as your life goes... "every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around." call up your family. at least let them know you love them. satisfy your soul.
