Chapter Four: From Carrying My Brother to His Grave to Getting Laid

My brother had crashed his car into a road grader, probably heading over to a friend's house to score some coke. The toxicology report showed that he had pot, alcohol, cocaine and barbiturates in his system. He had been slowly killing himself with substance abuse. All the signs were there, his path to the grave was blatantly obvious. I should have seen what was happening, should have said something, should have been there to talk with him the night he died. But I was young, stupid, self absorbed and had serious character issues myself. I was the last family member he had spoken with and I had completely let him down.

It's something for which I've never forgiven myself. For over 10 years I'd start my day off with the same prayer. I'd ask God "Why did you take him instead of me?" I was sure that my brother would've eventually overcome his addiction problems. He was the one who was an extrovert, the one who would network with the right people. He was the one who was going to be a business leader or the owner of a fine luxury hotel somewhere. A mover and a shaker. Why did God take him instead of me?

I went to college the next day not knowing what had happened. When I got back home my mother and grandmother were sitting in the living room looking grim. My mom looked at me and told me that my brother was dead. I went to my room, cried my eyes out, then went to a mortuary to help make funeral arrangements. My brother had a big heart. How appropriate it was that the day we would be choosing a coffin for him was Valentines Day.

My ex stopped by that evening to offer her condolences. Then, while talking with me outside my parents house, she kissed me. It took me by surprise. Over the next week leading up to my brother's funeral we spent more and more time together. My sister flew in from South Dakota and we'd all go out at night to smoke pot, walk around town, go see a movie; anything to escape the sorrow of my brother's passing. Our mutual affection grew, and we finally consummated our feelings for one another a few hours after I helped carry my brother to his grave. Little did we know that this would be the start of an intimate relationship that would last over 18 years.

Next up: Bad Times/Good Times