Saying goodbye is never easy, but for some it provides a sense of comfort and hope. When someone we love passes on it’s devastating and no matter how much we talked with them, laughed, cried, ranted, argued, and simply just been there and existed with them it’s not enough. You always long for another week, day, hour, even one more conversation where nothing needs to be said. Just a little while to hold that person and feel the comfort that knowing them comes with.
May 29th of last year my best friend/little brother died at the age of 19 to a disease known as Progeria. I called him Ric, he was the happiest person I ever knew. He never once complained about the condition he had, or how it affected his daily life. Although he would joke about being a pincushion for the various doctors who wanted to run tests and work on him. If you don’t know anything about Progeria, it’s a rare aging disease where the body rapidly ages as if one year were ten or more. It has to do with the Lacimen Progerin in our cells, everyone has this chemical in their bodies but in his case it was over-produced and no one really knows why. His sibling was born normal, as it’s so rare a disease there wasn’t even a shot in the dark at a cure. No one had a clue.
When I met Ric, I was at a very awkward time in my life. I was transitioning from one school to another, my parents moved when I was around 12-13. Finding no solace in school and no real friends as I knew no one from this new town/school I started playing video games to pass the time. I was on an MMO and met Ric in one of the cities online. He was very helpful and we started playing together. Soon, we were chatting and playing together on a daily basis. I spent hours talking to him online and we became friends quickly. We exchanged instant messenger information and started talking outside of the game while we did homework or just because we were bored. It wasn’t until about a year of knowing him that he told me about his condition. I was a bit surprised because I’d never heard of Progeria, I was thinking it was a simple condition that he was getting treatment for and would be gone soon. I knew nothing about medicine back then and wasn’t too worried about my new friend.
In the weeks that followed we exchanged pictures, I was shocked to see that the condition I had thought trivial was the exact opposite. Ric was bald due to the symptoms of the disease, his features were smaller than they should have been which made his eyes look big and he was tiny. He was only about 12 and I was 16, but he looked at least triple my age. Immediately my heart sank, all I could think about was why someone as nice as him was stricken with this horrible affliction. He told me he wasn’t upset or angry about it, it was just part of his life.
We kept chatting every day, I had finally found someone who I could really confide in. He kept all my secrets no matter how big or small and always listened. I started calling him “nii-sama” as we both loved anime and it translates roughly to “little brother” and he called me “nii-chan” which translates to “big sister”. He helped me through some of the darkest times in my life and didn’t even know it, when I thought I just couldn’t take anymore and thought about giving up I just thought about my little brother who’d be waiting for me to login that night and tell him all about it.
I remember the first time I heard him speak, it was years later. I was engaged to my current husband and living at my uncle’s house. Ric’s parents had agreed to let him use his microphone and talk to me instead of typing. We’d upgraded our gaming experience to World of Warcraft and typing was just getting annoying. I logged in on Ventrilo (chat program) and said hi. A small voice came from my speakers that was too high-pitched to be normal, but it was the best sound in the world. Tears poured down my face as I pictured him smiling at the computer screen, I offered back a hello and we started talking as we normally did. The game was now a mere distraction instead of our only communication, he sounded just like he looked and there are no words to describe it. My husband eventually got his own account and the three of us would play for hours, laughing when the other would make a mistake and die or making fun of a wrongly cast spell. It became a part of our lives.
It was always in the back of my mind that one day, my little brother would die. We both knew he wouldn’t live as long as he was supposed to. We talked about it once, I asked him if he was afraid of death. He told me no, he said it was only a part of life. That there was nothing to be afraid of because it meant he wouldn’t be sick anymore. He also told me that he didn’t want me to cry or be upset, that we would see each other again one day. I’m not sure about Ric’s religious background, if he had one, and it’s bothered me a lot since he died about where he went. I’m hopeful that we’ll see each other again however. He told me he wanted me to remember him as he was before, happy and a huge smart ass. With a huge knot in my throat I told him I’d do my best, he told me he’d always be with me and that he loved me. Ever since that night, everytime we talked he’d always tell me,” I’ll see you later, sis. Love you.” We knew his time was limited and wanted to make sure the last thing we ever said to each other was that we loved one another.
For his 17th birthday, I emailed Ric’s mom and asked if I could send him a webcam so we could video chat. She and his dad talked and agreed as long as my husband and I were the only ones to see him on it and we didn’t take pictures that he didn’t know about. His condition was widely publicized and they didn’t want him to be exploited. We understood and agreed.
The first time we ever got to video chat was awesome, I no longer had to picture his smile. He laughed when I teared up. We’d stay on webcam so much that when my husband would leave for work on my off days from school he’d say good morning to Ric, and when he’d come home I’d still be working on homework and on webcam with Ric. Ric was incredibly smart, he knew six different languages and was in all the honors classes at his school. He tutored me and helped me with anything I was having troubles with, I’d even send him my study guides and he’d call out my questions to me and come up with the silliest ways to remember things. I could always count on him to keep me on task and in line with my studies.
One day, I was on webcam with Ric working on some homework before I went to work. I told him,” I’ll call you later on, lil bro, the guy’s here to fix the water heater so I won’t have to take anymore cold showers. I’ll see you if you’re online after I get off work.” He told me he loved me and he’d see me soon. Those were the last words we ever spoke, I got a text message the next morning from a mutual friend that while I was at work the night before, my lil Ric had died.
I felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest, suddenly I couldn’t breathe, I was dizzy, I thought,’ This is a sick fucking joke, you asshole.’ So I called FP, he picked up and I immediately shouted,” That’s nothing to joke about you sick fuck!” he replied,” Cami, he’s dead…I’m so sorry.”
I dropped the phone and can’t remember if I hung up or if he did. Tears streamed down my face and my world shattered. I grabbed my laptop and logged into messenger, Ric wasn’t online. I sat there and waited holding my pillow and my dog for hours until my husband called on his break from work. I picked up and said two words,” Ric’s dead…” hearing them said was mind-blowing. He had been fine yesterday, no problems, the doctors had said he was doing better. Even as I type this I feel the same numb sensation like I’m falling off the earth and don’t care what happens when I hit the bottom if there is one.
The rest of the day was a blur, May 29th, 2012, my little brother died; and a part of me died with him that will never come back. I picked myself up after talking with my husband and went to the college I’d planned to attend that summer, no makeup, hair pinned up, I went and scheduled my classes. I didn’t care what I looked like, didn’t care what the people there thought of me, I only had one thing on my mind. Ric would beat my ass if I didn’t go to college because he’s not here.
The week that followed wasn’t much better, I didn’t eat unless forced, I didn’t get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. It always sounded so strange to me when I’d hear my psychology professor talk about how seriously depressed people didn’t even want to do the basic things to take care of themselves like shower, brush their teeth, eat, or other mundane things I usually take for granted. My husband helped me shower, made me eat, made me brush my teeth, made me keep going. My therapist got extremely worried and put me on a mock version of suicide watch where I had to check in with him every day to be sure I was still breathing. It felt like I was dead.
My friends dragged me out of the house to go see a movie, Snow White and the Huntsman, I knew I’d never be able to watch it again. To this day, just seeing the cover of that DVD makes me cry. I cried so much that week and the few that followed I made myself sick, that combined with the lack of eating, lack of sleeping, and lack of motivation. I started painting miniatures to pass the time, counted the hours in the day until I could sleep again and forget for a little while that he was dead. It took me three weeks to leave the bedroom voluntarily.
Anyone who knew me before Ric died knows that I’m a completely different person now, I try to honor his memory by doing well in school and keeping my grades up because I know how important that was to him. He’d always praise me for getting good grades and give me a rare item in one of the games we played.
I held off on contacting Ric’s family after I sent them an email asking them if this was true. They replied back and told me he was, indeed, gone. He died at age 19 of a massive heart attack, a brain aneurysm and atherosclerosis. I got in contact with two friends of Ric’s who lived in my area that I’d never met before. They told me that Ric’s parents were sending down some of his things for us to have and remember him by. They asked me if there was anything I especially wanted, I told them the only thing I’d like was the stuffed Pikachu he always held when we played Pokemon and slept with.
I waited for months for the Pikachu to come in, everytime I’d check the mail and come up empty-handed I’d cry. Before he died, people wondered if I could cry because I rarely showed any intimate emotions outwardly even when I broke my ribs or my foot in a car crash. Now they wondered when I’d stop crying. I found out that the lady that I’d met hadn’t given my address to the person sending Ric’s belongings. I asked for the lady’s number/email who was sending the packages and was either ignored or told that I was being greedy. I was so hurt I spent days locked in my house pouring myself into my homework. I contacted Ric’s brother and told him what was going on, he was enraged and told me that he’d give my address to Kin (the lady who had Ric’s belongings).
Almost seven months after he’d died, I got a package in the mail. I opened it and inside was a stuffed Pikachu, with the small stain of chocolate syrup he’d used to flavor his milk on the tail. I hugged it to me and sobbed as I sank into a heap on the couch. It felt like Ric himself was there hugging me back and telling me everything would be all right.
His parents sent me a package to go with it a few weeks later, it was a box that I’d seen him keep his favorite things in on his desk. The box had mistletoe and hollyberries on it with a tan background, inside was his favorite shirt and sweater, a plastic Pikachu that he’d kept near his webcam, a bouncyball with Mew inside, a crayon he’d used for art class, a stuffed animal he’d held when he went to the doctor and best of all a card. His parents thanked me for being his friend and making his life so much better. They said he did nothing but talk about me and how much he loved me. They thanked ME…? It was my pleasure to be around him, I felt so lucky to have known him because he was so special to me.
I never got to say a proper goodbye to my little brother and we never met in person, but he was everything to me. There is no good way to say goodbye, other than living like your loved one would want you to.
lilrenthefox 