annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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My brother

1. Thank you all for the kind words and thoughts you have sent me since my last post about the death of my brother. They mean a lot. When we lose someone dear to us, all we have is the love and friendship of others. Thank you.


2. I am numb. Before he died, I was agitated and weepy, full of anxiety about what would happen, how much suffering lay ahead for him, as Motor Neurone Disease can be truly fucking awful. Now, it's as if that worry has gone but the reality hasn't hit me. At all.


3. The only time it does is when I think of Mum (his birth mother, my stepmother) who loved him more than any of us and would have been beyond devastated to know his life ended so cruelly and so young. I don't know why that upsets me - she's been dead for a decade so doesn't have to live with it - why can I cry for her, but not for him or for me? She was always so mean to me as well.


4. My legs are miraculously better. The day after he died, his wife and I took their dog for a long walk, down the massive hill where they live. I knew I would struggle coming back up, but thought it would be OK, I'd take it in stages. I didn't, I just walked it. I can push ED's wheelchair again - I took her a couple of miles down the prom yesterday, no problem. People suggested my leg pain was psychosomatic as the tests were coming back with nothing, but fucking hell, I didn't expect it to be that clear cut. I'd rather have leg pains and my brother. His wife said this is his gift to me - saying that was her gift to me.


5. I will keep using the words dead and died because I cannot bear the euphemisms. This is what has happened. But I am not quite able to call his wife a widow yet. That's a step too far.                                                             

My brother xxxxxx

12:01 a.m. - 19.03.18

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