Ray Hobbs The Day My Brother Died
My Oldest Daughter & The Day My Brother Died.
That October day, that morning was no different than any other morning except that my phone began to ring.
I rarely get calls so I do not leave it on all of the time as if I am awaiting some important call but that morning it rained off the hook. The first call was from my Grandmother and she informed me that my brother had died, he was found in his home by the police after a welfare check was requested.
Being one hundred and four years old, My Grandmother, 104 years young, was a testament in Womanhood, she had overseen multiple generations of her offspring and was still the matriarch of the family, the leader and the one most high. With clarity in her voice, calmness and yet compassion she informed of the news.
Shortly after the call came in she had an incoming call on her line and she put me on hold briefly. When she returned to our call she said it was Twisted Sister(The Childless Aunt) on the other line and she was at the police station obviously claiming my brother’s body. My Grandmother asked “Let me have your address because I want to send you a picture of your Uncle when he was a young boy.’ It was a strange request in the middle of a bad news call and I felt some apprehension about responding and immediately felt that question was really requested by Twisted Sister and her preceding call. Was it she, Twisted Sister that really wanted my address? Regardless I acknowledged her request and told her I had pictures of my Uncle (My recently deceased Uncle and her son) that I wanted to send to her and my address would be on the enveloped used to mail them.
In Her unshakable style My Grandmother simply said “Ok.” And I knew that she knew that I knew the request came from Twisted Sister. We wrapped up the call with the acceptance that a uncle and son, a brother and grandson, had all been lost, passed away in the past year. I was the Last Man Standing of our generation, this son and grandsons of My Grandmother and We agreed to talk again soon knowing our days too were limited by time.
Almost immediately after ending the call with My Grandmother another call came in and it was also unexpected, someone calling to tell me that my brother had passed away. It was one of my few distant cousins here in Denver that I had fallen out of contact with over the years and someone who was deeply entrenched in Twisted Sister’s camp believing anything and everything she said. My cousin and I had a brief exchange that did not go well when my father disappeared and I was seeking his assistance. This little confrontation was one of the first Red Flags that popped up in this battle of siblings, this game of cat and mouse Twisted Sister played with my father. I was surprised by his response that indicated he had previous knowledge that something was going on, something devious and sinister involving Twisted Sister, my father, my mother and I. I realized that Twisted Sister was shoring up support within this small and extinct family and his response earlier preceded this call he was making now about my brother’s death. By now it was obvious that in the wake of my brother’s death Twisted Sister had tired of being Grand Judge of all Decisions regarding her family, she had tired of receiving the news of a death and being the next of kin contacted to claim someone’s body. This she had experienced with her father’s death obviously as she was his self appointed “Manager” and made all decisions on her own.
My cousin’s first burst of words came out like the past had been forgotten and this news was to take precedence over all and he must be heard without interruption but I stopped him in his tracks before he could really get started. I blasted him for his previous allegiance to Twisted Sister and ignoring my requests to help find my father, and here he was today informing of my brother. Where was you Cuz when my father disappeared? I reminded him in detail of Twisted Sister’s behavior and eventually he acknowledged that others had spoke of her antics as well. So in conclusion after venting built up frustration over years, I thanked him for making the call because I knew Twisted Sister never would, she didn’t call when my father died either and she will now as well whenever my mother’s last day comes to be. In some strange way there was a feeling of relief that my brother’s death was natural and there was no obvious signs of struggle, it was a relief that I was not in Denver and had to have any interaction with Twisted Sister at all as in these later years of her life it is as if everything she ever wanted or demanded form others came back to collect the unpaid bill for services rendered. As always in her life from as early as her high school days, Twisted Sister was one unhappy miserable Bitch, … every day of her adult life.
I thought after that call with my cousin how coincidental it was that on the one day of the past several weeks I turn on my phone to see if I have any messages or calls. Those two calls left me in shock, a kind of stupor trying to accept the news of my brother and imaging the chaotic scene in Denver involving Twisted Sister, wondering how my mother was taking this news of the loss of her most dearest son. They had an intensely close relationship that involved daily calls of great length and was totally different than the relationship my mother and I had, and nothing like the relationship between my mother and Twisted Sister. Deep pain, hurt and all kinds of memories of my brother were rushing through my head, things I regretted I had never done with him, honoring his lifelong request for privacy, wondering what his last day and week was like, who were his friends. He was a very private person and I had a few inside views into his life as a child and growing up but with each passing year he cherished desire to be free, unattached and for the most part unknown. The phone began to ring again, I had a new message in my mail box, and it was not a recognized contact either but it was from a recognized area code. Someone located in the Texas metro area was calling me and it only be from or concerning one of my longtime estranged daughters. It was My Oldest Daughter. The last time My Oldest Daughter and I exchanged words it was through a text.
It was a put down, she trashed me, slammed me and told me to never ever in way shape form or fashion contact her again. It was a very touching, sensitive heartfelt text. My response was appropriate as I simply texted back “Ok.” It had been several years since I read that text and I was always of the belief that should a woman request a man to never contact her, that request must be honored with no exceptions. This call on this day of my brother’s death came as a voice mail made during my earlier conversations with my grandmother and cousin. Twisted Sister was desperate, she was at the police station or morgue and was attempting to have me contacted ASAP, ..for what? Why now when my father disappeared she did the opposite and called the police on me for harassing her? Time had taken a toll on Twisted Sister’s already demented and psychotic mind, and now death was all around her at every turn, calling her name. She called My Oldest Daughter and instructed her to call me. On no other day since the day of the text requesting that I never contact her again, had My Oldest Daughter reached out in any way indicating a change in her rules for me, her former Father. The first and last words in My Oldest Daughters’s voice message were “Daddy I love you.” I recognized the voice but did not feel any sincerity, any recollection of long passed emotions, love and certainly it did not sound like the “news that she had” was bad news, news of the death of my brother. There was no excitement in me form hearing the voice of someone I once cherished as a daughter. Twisted Sister had devalued her, had devalued and ridiculed our father daughter relationship to state on non existence. Long lost, long forgotten, given up on and moved away from in its entirety. It was a state of emptiness that even surprised me but I could not forget what was done to my father, my mother and brother and My Oldest Daughter's unforgettable remarks ‘Well Daddy you need to learn a lesson, ..” and “I already talked to you once this year and I don’t have time to talk to you again.” These words rang true and louder than the words she spoke this day of my brother’s death, and only after being instructed to call by. Twisted Sister. Had my brother not died My Oldest Daughter likely never would have called.
Had not Twisted Sister instructed her to call that day the thought contact her long trashed father would have never crossed her mind. I responded to the voice message with a text. I did not want to speak to her this day that my brother had died. I wondered about the typical and historical insensitivity of Twisted Sister. I was reminded of a day many years ago when Twisted Sister informed me out of the blue “It would be best if My Daughters lives in Texas with their mother, you can spend time with them when they are grown.” Were those words of a curse? Now that My Daughters are grown the memories of a childhood relationship with their father have long dissipated and have no bearing on the present. I informed My Oldest Daughter by text that I needed more time before speaking with her directly but as the days passed more questions came to mind. I texted My Oldest Daughter again asking if she had a copy of my father’s obituary, if she had any detailed about my brother’s death or where my mother was today? My Oldest Daughter responded with four words. “I have no info.” That was it. She knows nothing. So obviously the “news she had” for me about my brother’s death had no details. He was dead. That was it. I know nothing. I do not know where my grandmother lives.
It felt like winter in Colorado. A freezing wet cold snow storm with below zero temps. That was My Oldest Daughter. I decided not to call or text My Oldest Daughter again. She lived a fast paced life with five kids, multiple exs, a new baby and a new husband. She did not have the time for a conversation with me. I don’t do drive-bys. It would be best that a copy of this book be delivered to her and she can read it at her own convenience if she has a desire to at all.
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Next, ..
The Curse.