Over the summer, we asked participants to pick a prompt from our Writing Prompt Challenge and write. In the coming months, we will share several of these pieces.
Up next is “Unsaid Goodbye“ by Helen Fox.
Prompt: Write a story about a final goodbye.
Unsaid Goodbye
My brother Isaac’s death had been inevitable. For a span of 3 years his panic attacks coupled with anxiety and depression was a fight he was losing. Isaac had believed the lie that alcohol would help with the pain. This is what ultimately killed him.
When we got the call that he was being taken to the emergency room, it was no surprise to those who loved him. In the same month that his life would end, I got to spend a week with him. Having 1700 miles between our homes, the day came for me to leave. In the week we spent together, I do not recall conversations about his life decisions which led to us being together in this final week. Isaac, being the baby of our family, was coddled even at the age of 42. In an attempt to keep things as they always were, I saved that final “goodbye” in my head. Just as through our entire lives, I didn’t want to scare him.
When I got on the plane to return home I knew I wouldn’t see my brother again until eternity. But goodbye just wouldn’t come out of my mouth. In the few weeks that passed, Isaac and I would talk over the phone as if nothing were wrong, as if he wasn’t dying. Then came the last call. Isaac, being so weak, had someone call for him. He couldn’t speak, just moans. I knew he was calling to say goodbye. I knew he wanted his big sister to tell him everything was going to be okay. My mind raced with things to tell him: “I’ll see you in heaven.” “I love you so much!” How sweet he had been to me and how I would miss him. And “Goodbye!” But the loudest voice: “Don’t say anything that will scare him!” Most of my family and myself had always protected Isaac from “hard things.” So once again my words of “goodbye” echoed in my mind instead of leaving my mouth.
My brother passed away the next day. Many days of grieving followed, but it was about a month after his passing that the thoughts of regret filled my soul. The “why didn’t I say this or that?” “Why didn’t I tell him everything that I possibly could before he was gone?” That I loved him? Why didn’t I let him know of the ache that would be in my heart when I couldn’t just call him up any time I wanted?
My brother has been gone three years now and I can’t say those thoughts of regret aren’t still lingering in my soul. What I have learned is that you can’t regret the choice you make when you’re in a battle of crisis. My focus must be the years my brother and I had together. The brother sister love that is like no other. The three years we lived together in our 20’s. His sweet notes he would leave for me. All of our long talks – some that happened at three in the morning – only a brother or sister can call that late in the night.
My life with my brother was more than the month of his death. I don’t know the right answer for others, but my answer has been thinking about the good times that we spent together, even though the inevitability that he wouldn’t be with us long.
