Born to Suffer So My Brother Learns Chapter 07
After returning from the cemetery, Dad slammed a set of divorce papers down onto the coffee table.
“Sign it. You’ve already destroyed this family,” he said, biting out each word. “I will not live under the same roof as the person who killed Helena.”
Mom’s face went white in an instant. She threw herself forward and clung desperately to the hem of Dad’s pants.
Tears burst forth as she screamed, “No, I won’t sign it! Tyrone, I was wrong. I really know I was wrong. I’ll change, I swear! Can we start over? I’ll never act crazy or cause trouble again!”
“It’s too late.” Dad shook off her hand coldly, just the way she used to. “Helena isn’t coming back. Every single time I see your face, I’ll remember the way she looked before she died.
“What did you do when she was trembling all over from pain, vomiting blood, and crying and begging you? I will never forgive you for the rest of my life.”
Just then, Irwin came out of his room as well. With his backpack slung over his shoulders and a suitcase in hand, he walked silently over to Dad’s side.
“I’m going with Dad. I don’t want to see you anymore, nor do I want to be reminded that Helena died because of my mistakes.”
Mom convulsed violently. She opened her mouth, but not a single sound came out.
After a long silence, she picked up the pen with a trembling hand and signed her name on the divorce papers.
Without so much as a backward glance, Dad picked up both suitcases and walked out the door with Irwin.
The door slammed shut, and the once-bustling apartment was suddenly silent.
The family portrait of the four of us still hung on the wall. In it, I was smiling ever so sweetly.
From that day on, Mom quit her job. Day after day, she’d cradle a framed photo of me and talk to it endlessly.
“Helena, dinner’s ready. I made your favorite tomato soup.”
She’d set the bowls and spoons down on the table and sit across from my empty chair, eating one slow bite at a
time.
“Helena, it’s getting cold. You need to put on an extra layer. Don’t catch a chill.”
She’d take my coat out of the wardrobe, fold it neatly, and place it by the bedside. The next day, she’d fold it all over again.
“Helena, I miss you. I really, really miss you.”
One day bled into the next.
Mom stayed in that apartment that felt so empty now, clinging to my photo. She wasted away until she was skin and bones, her hair gone mostly white.
The once confident and capable career woman had become someone even the security guard downstairs no longer recognized.
Every day, she still went to my grave and sat before my headstone. And every evening, she returned home to write me letter after letter. Each one was on fine stationery, every word penned with perfect care.
“Helena, it rained today. Is it cold where you are? I draped a jacket over your headstone-remember to put it on.”
“Helena, I saw your favorite strawberries at the supermarket today and bought two boxes. I ate one and saved one for you. It’s a shame you can’t eat them anymore.”
“Helena, I dreamed about you again last night. You were waving at me from far away. But when I ran toward you, you disappeared. After I woke up, I cried for a long time.”
The letters multiplied and grew longer with each passing day.
When the drawer couldn’t hold any more, she switched to a cardboard box. And when that was full, she switched to an even bigger one.
Every single letter began with “Helena” and ended with “I miss you”. But she never sent a single one, because she didn’t know where to send them.
And so the days went on.
Mom’s health declined steadily. She couldn’t keep food down. A single bowl of soup would take her forever to finish, and what she did manage to get down, she’d just throw back up.
She couldn’t sleep either. Night after night, she lay with her eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
When a neighbor urged her to go see a doctor, she just shook her head and said, “It’s nothing. I’m just getting old.”
But she was only 46 years old.
Her aging wasn’t a matter of years-it was her heart that had aged, shattered, and died.
One day, she got a phone call from Irwin. It was the first time he had contacted her since he left.
