justanothershrinkingviolet:
I’ve mentioned before on this blog that I have two younger brothers who have autism. I usually help my parents put my brothers to sleep, so last night, I stayed with one of my brothers while he tried to fall asleep. For a while, he was listening to music while I was on my laptop, but after after about fifteen minutes, he reached over to me and grabbed my hand.
I closed my laptop and moved from my seat onto the pull-out bed next to where my brother was laying. Once I was close enough, my brother used his other hand to touch my face as he continued to smile warmly at me.
My brothers and I have always had a good relationship, and I’m really pleased with how they’ve grown to become such loving and affectionate people over the years. Their verbal skills may be limited, but they have found their own ways to say that they care. I am always really touched by these tender moments, and I try not to take any of them for granted.
We held hands for several minutes, neither of us saying anything. Eventually, my brother interrupted the silence. He glanced at me with a curious look on his face as he asked, “September 2099, home?”
Although the question initially threw me, I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to ask me if in September of 2099, whether he would have to start school again, or if he would be allowed to stay home. After he asked me that question, I leaned over and hugged him as I told him that he could stay home.
My brother - my sweet, lovely, innocent brother - cannot understand the concept of death. He has no idea that in the year 2099, he, our other brother, and I will most likely be dead, and our parents will have definitely passed on. All he cares about is whether or not he’ll still have to go to school, or if he can stay home and play video games.
Our grandparents on my mother’s side passed away many years ago; the three of us were all in elementary school at the time. Yet, to this day, my brothers still occasionally ask us if we can go to “Grandma’s house”. They haven’t been there in over a decade, but they still remember it. They don’t understand that other people are living in that house now. We tried to explain it to them be equating it to a concept that they did understand. We told them that the house was “garbage”, because they know that once something is thrown in the garbage, it is gone and you can’t get it back.
At the beginning of this year, when I was seriously contemplating suicide, I spent a lot of time thinking about how my death would be explained to my brothers. How do you explain the concept of death to two people who have no idea that it even exists? I mean, one of my brothers still asks for our grandfather, who, as I mentioned earlier, has been dead for over a decade. Do my brothers just think that our grandparents have gone on an extensive vacation? I can’t know exactly how they think, of course, but I spent many days wondering how my absence would be explained to my brothers. I wondered if I would be reduced to “garbage” as well, but my brothers have only ever assigned the word to inanimate objects, not people.
I don’t know how my parents would have tried to explain my death to my brothers. What I do know is how confused my brothers would have been. How they would have asked for me. How they would have gone to my bedroom and banged on the door for hours, calling my name. And I know that I could never have done that to them. I couldn’t possibly hurt my brothers, both of whom mean the absolute world to me.
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: my family - my parents and my brothers - are the main reason why I never went through with my plans. I think that this post pretty clearly explains why.
This is beyond beautiful. Our heart goes out to Violet and all those like her. You're such a strong person. We hope to have more people like you around us!
tangentwithtanner
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
