Twelve Years

Let me preface this post with some commentary.

Memories blur and fade. Memories are from a perspective. Everyone's memories of the exact same situation are unique.

Death is tough. Everyone mourns their own way, recalls it their own way, understands it their own way.

Ok... Well. Here we go! So begin-eth a story or a recollection. Stick with me ok? It'll be a ramble and likely I won't be able to eloquently articulate the point of this post. But frig... I rarely do. 

Twelve years ago at around this time I was losing my best friend. Not because of a fight or because they were moving to Christmas Island but because after what seems like a lifetime of illness, they were stepping away. 

This best friend was my brother Brud. Now his name was Calvin, but I called him Brud from my first words to the last ones I ever spoke to him. He was 17 years older and while we cranked at each other sometimes like siblings do, we had a friendship that couldn't be broken. 

I could tell the stories where he and Glen (that's my brother and also my best friend) created a fake will where they would get everything of my Dad's and I get the outboard motor. Not even the shagging boat!  Or the time he gave me a 20 year old bottle of Hi-Karate for my 18th birthday. Or... Or... Or...

My therapist loves these stories. She has a house in the Caymans on these stories. 

Right! Off on a ramble. Let's get back to it... Brud was smart. Super-de-duper smart. He was practical, pragmatic and most of all courageous. A dry sense of humour never hurt either. He knew right from wrong, followed his conscience, tried never to hurt a soul and was an excellent human being. 

When the time came and Brud was in hospital, he decided enough was enough.  After a lifetime of having his life dictated by illness, he took "the bull by the horns" and dictated his passing. We accepted (understood, supported) his decision and waited with him. And let me tell you, there wasn't anywhere else I could have been. He made a choice to let his life end. No more meds, no more surgeries, no more...

Why am I sharing this part of my life with you, anonymous person?

Because some day, you will face a decision, maybe your own, perhaps a loved one. You need to know what you want, you need to learn what they want, you will need to honour what they want.

Because at the end of the day, you have to be at peace with the choice you make.  

People can tell you there's a right or wrong answer, there really isn't. Like memories, choice for one person won't be exactly the same as for someone else. 

But the important thing is that there is a choice...

We were likely laughing at our Dad... We did that a lot.