May 1, 1982

May 1st is always a difficult day for me. It’s a lot of kind of personal stuff, but hey…I think I’ll go ahead and type it all out anyway, because when you get right down to it, this is a site where I type about myself.

I had a twin brother by the name of Joseph. Joey was a really cool kid, but I only knew him until we were five years old. If you haven’t figured it out by that sentence, this story doesn’t have a happy ending. On we go. He was definitely the “alpha dog” in our twin dynamic. He always got to be Luke when we played Star Wars. (It wasn’t until much later in life that I realized that being Han was actually the better deal). I was quiet and laid back, and he was the one that was kind of in charge. That said, we did everything together and had a connection that only twins can have. It’s really not possible to explain.

On the morning of May 1st, 1982, Joey was sleeping. I was awake and watching Saturday morning cartoons with my sister (who was 3 years old at the time). I heard my parents upstairs trying to wake Joey, but he just wouldn’t open his eyes. The memory has obviously become kind of fuzzy after 26 years, but I think that he had been sick with something like the flu the night before. I went upstairs to see what was going on, and my parents were shaking him and trying to get him to wake up.

After some time, an ambulance came to the house to take Joe to the hospital. Apparently at the hospital they were able to wake him up somehow, at least for a while. I don’t think I was there, but I’ve heard the story enough times to know that the doctor was asking him questions to see if he knew who he was. He gave some witty little five-year-old answers. The doctor asked what his daddy did. Joey replied, “He’s a lawyer.” The doctor asked what lawyers do. Joey replied, “They make a lot of money.” Funny kid.

Soon after that, Joey slipped into a coma. When he woke up, he was in a vegetative state that lasted until his death in the summer of 1991. It’s funny…I can’t remember the exact date of his death, only the date that he got sick. Perhaps it’s just because it’s an easier day to remember. I don’t doubt for a second that I’ve blocked parts of his actual death from my memory. When he died, my family and I were on vacation. Joey was still back home, being cared for at the hospital. I was downstairs at the home of some friends in Colorado or Utah or something…it was a vacation out to California. My mom came downstairs with tears in her eyes and just said, “Bad news.” We left for home the next day, and had a funeral shortly after that.

It’s now been 26 years since my brother got sick. My parents cared for him by themselves for over nine years. I simply cannot explain what amazing people they are. There is no way to put it into words. Sometimes people go through terrible things and it breaks them. Other times, it shows the world how strong they really are. I love you, Mom and Dad. Rest in peace, Joey.

3 comments:

areabassist said...

RIP, Joseph.

You know, I've known you for going on thirteen years now, and I've never known that whole story. Your parents truly are amazing people.

rhyan/djay said...

I remember going to his funeral. Very sad.

RIP, Joey

Recalcitrant Haberdasher said...

Wow, man. I had no idea.
RIP, Joseph.