I used
to be a very spiritual person. I was Faithful in my beliefs. My favorite saying
was, “Walk by faith, not by sight”. I have worked in healthcare for almost 20
years and have seen sickness, abuse, witnessed hardships and pain. My faith
still did not waiver. I had experienced divorce, watched my children’s pain as
they learned to live amongst two separate households instead of WITH their
parents. I have survived domestic violence myself. And even the crazy antics
that go along with having a husband that has an ex-wife with an untreated mood
disorder. She alone has accused me child abuse among other things. Still I was
faithful in my beliefs. I have done some soul searching the past few days and
tried my best to find the answer to why my beliefs changed less than 10 months
ago.
October
16, 2014, I walked into my baby brother’s home early in the morning to find
that he had passed away in his sleep. He
was only 15 months younger than me so until his death I could not remember a
time that he was not in my life. He was my first friend, and all my life I
considered him my best friend. We did just about everything together. Smoked
our first cigarettes together when we were much too young to do it (sorry mom),
learned to drive, went 4-wheeling, and snuck a drink of the cooking wine (Yuk!
Sorry again mom). You name it; we probably did it, or some version of it. He
was who I would call if I was mad, or sad, or happy! Jason was my go to guy.
August
9, 2014 we had a surprise anniversary party for my parent’s 50th
wedding anniversary. The last time we were able to have a family picture, my
parents and their three children. I am so thankful for those memories, for that
recent picture to hold onto. But with
the anniversary of that fast approaching I realize how sad my heart is too.
Jason had a seizure at that party. He had to be transported by ambulance to the
local hospital where he was transferred to a larger hospital for further
testing. Neurology found nothing. He was never really healthy after that, not
completely anyway.
October
13 was Jason’s 36th birthday. I was working in Urgent Care at that time
and doing 12 hours shifts so I didn’t make it over there that Monday or
Tuesday. Wednesday I only worked until two o’clock so I took a cake and dinner
to my little bro. My parents had wanted to take him to eat Chinese for his
birthday but he had a “stomach bug”. When I got there I realized how sick he
had been. He had been vomiting blood.
You see “old blood” or blood from a “high bleed” looks dark, like coffee
grounds. I know that as a medical professional but neither he nor my parents
realized. I told him that is what it was but he was stubborn and would not
believe me.
I made the wrong choice at that
moment, after 7 straight 12 hours shifts plus one half day I was tired and I
just wanted to take my five kids home. After I got home I text Jason until
around 9:15 and told him to please text me if he changed his mind and I would
come and take him to the hospital, he assured me he would. I also told him if
he was still sick the next morning I was going to take him to the doctor. He agreed
to that as well. Jason did not have a
land line at his house and only enough service to text as he lived far out in
the country. I decided to go on to bed so I could get up and get to the gym at
my regular time; 4:33 A.M. comes early.
When my alarm went off I did my
usual thing, got dressed, brushed teeth etc. As I was heading out the door to
the gym I picked up my cell to realize I had a missed text from the night
before.
11:15 pm – “tell them I need them, mom and dad has the key”
Oh my God! I had missed a text from
my little brother. I immediately called my dad because I didn’t have a key to
his house. I was in a panic, waking my husband, throwing on jeans instead of
gym clothes. I knew what I was going to find before I got there. I knew in my
heart. The person that I could feel with me no matter what, for as long as I
could remember was gone. I could not feel him anymore. I waited in the driveway, for my dad. Texting
Jason as I waited. Telling him I am coming. Dad knew it too, I could see it in
his eyes when he stepped out of his car.
As he opened the door with his key
it was like everything around me was in slow motion. The door opened slower
than any entranceway I had ever passed through, Brock and Brady his “boys” as
he called them, two very large dogs, were walking what seemed like in slow
motion as I tried to get past them and make it through the kitchen. As soon as
I turned the corner, I could tell. It looked as if he simply went to sleep,
sitting in his favorite spot on the couch. He looked more peaceful than I had
seen in years. Immediately I could hear my own screams but I could not control
them. They were just coming out. All I could do was shake his lifeless body and
ask God “why?” My dad, my 70 year old dad had to literally drag me away from my
little brother.
My dad and I had to drive out a bit
to get service enough to call 911. I called my husband so he would know that I
would not be there to get the kids to school. We went back to the house and we
waited. Waited on the ambulance. Living
in a small town everyone knows everybody. There was something very calming
about it as one of the people on the ambulance stood and shared good memories
with me. The police officer that came also knew Jason and me in our younger,
more “wild” years. He kept saying, “You two were always such good kids”. I saw that Ford Focus driving up the street.
It was my mom. Oh God, how do we tell my mom that her son is gone?
My dad and I had to tell her. She
screamed and cried the way I had. My dad hugged her and all I could do was wrap
my arms around myself and try to stay warm.
The next few hours are a bit of a blur. They entailed the ambulance
taking Jason to the hospital, me going to the hospital to “identify the body”,
calling my sister and our longtime family friend. The phone call to my sister
was one of the worst things ever. Breaking that sort of news over the phone and
she was 3 hours away. I called; when she answered I could not say a thing at
first. I just sat there. She said, “Karen?” and all I could do was sigh. It
sounded like someone else’s voice as I whispered, “Jason is gone”. It was the same response as mine and our mom’s,
she cried, she screamed. But it was torcher, I could not hug her, she was too
far away.
Once we were back to town I had to
start making phone calls. I was afraid that social media would somehow tell
people before I could. I called my Uncle
Leon, my dad’s youngest brother who agreed to call my dad’s side of the family
for me and my cousin Shannon who took care of my mom’s side. I had to call
Bill, I couldn’t. So I messaged his wife Theresa and asked her to call me. By
the time she did I think it was setting in and I was going into shock. She
said, “Hey it’s Theresa, you wanted me to call” and I just sat there in a stupor.
I could not even think. She agreed to go get Bill at work and tell him in
person. I had to let Heather know. She
was Jason’s high school sweetie and should have been my sister in law but they
were young and never made it that far. I consider her family still and she was
a rock through all of this. She would check on me, chat with me, listen to me
rant, and let me cry, whatever I needed.
Jason had a simple life. He liked
it that way. He was happy enough I suppose. At that point he was not hurting
anymore. But I was mad. I am still mad. I hurt all the time, missing him. Life
had to go on; I have five children for goodness sake. That was a Thursday
morning that we found him. Two days later we went to a soccer game. I sighed
with dread as I walked across that field knowing there would be people, People
to offer condolences, hugs, with questions. I knew it had to be done. I took a
deep breath and walked forward. Immediately one of my friends was standing in
front of me, coming up to my left was his ex-wife (they were no longer with one
another but both friends of mine), people were giving me looks, smiles. I just
wanted to run away, far away. The very first love of my life was coming across
the field towards me along with his wife to offer kind words, some tried to
catch my eye, and others looked away because they did not know what to
say. “Just let me get through this” is
all I could think.
The next day was the funeral. We went
through the ordering of the casket once Terri got to town. I was adamant about
his headstone. It had to be simple and perfect like he was. He would not want
the old, “In loving memory” so I asked my sister and my parents and they agreed
that the perfect headstone for him, and it describes him to a tee would simply
say
Son,
Brother, Uncle, Friend
Paul
Jason O’Quin
Oct
13, 1978- Oct 16, 2014
We made it through the funeral,
most of that I honestly do not remember. I remember that my heart ached for
days and it felt like a physical pain that I cannot describe. I remember that
food tasted terrible. I remember days of sobbing quietly in the shower so that
my children and my husband did not have to hear. It felt unreal, unfair, and indescribable. It
still does many days, most days. So now
it is this thing, which has changed me. It has made me cold towards some
things, more passionate about others. I
anger easily at the words, “you do not understand” because I do understand. I
now know what it is like to lose a sibling, a best friend.
I have not been to church since.
Maybe one or two times I went, but not regularly. My faith is faltered; my
beliefs have waivered even though I never thought they would. The anger has not begun to fade. If anything it rises up within me in those
times that I KNOW I would have talked to my brother about a problem, sent him a
silly joke, or just text to ask how he was doing. I hope he really is in a
better place. If you are the praying type, please pray for peace and comfort for
me. If not, send good vibes my direction. I could really use them.
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