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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My sister called, “You must come now, to see him still alive.” He’d had the dreadful verdict just a week or so before, my precious younger brother, last remaining one of five. “You should accept the Hospice care, we can do nothing more.” “I’m tired, Sis, “ he answered, when I asked him how he was. He didn’t need to tell me, I could see that it was so. It was strange to hear him say it; he had always been so brave, suffering for years in silence, and not wanting world to know. I stood there a bit awkwardly, not knowing what to say and hating my own healthy hand that patted his thin cheek. I battled back the tears before they had a chance to flow as I prayed to God to help me find the proper words to speak. It was not the first time I had come when Brother needed me, like the time some years ago now, when he’d lost his only son. I made all of the arrangements and wished I could do more to help my grieving brother when things needed to be done. He had raised that boy by himself, after his wife ran away and didn’t try to fight him, for she knew that she was wrong. Joe’s life was lived around that boy until the accident. I was afraid that it would break him, but somehow he got along. I was nine years old when he was born and I adored that baby. He was so good and happy until the hated illness came. Inflammatory rheumatism is what they called the sickness. It affected him in every joint. He never was the same. I helped my mama care for him and loved him even more, and promised God I would be good if He’d just make him well. Finally the swelling left and he could walk again, but he’d not be strong like others, almost anyone could tell. But what he missed in brawn he surely made up with his brains. He became a radio announcer and found some small town fame. Then he moved to the big city and hosted a political talk show. It wasn’t long before a lot of people knew his name. But the good years were not long before the dreadful wear and tear of his chronic illness caused his joints to deteriorate. He had most of them replaced but another one would go. And he had to accept the pain as just his fate. The pain medicine he took for years has come at a big price. And he must give his life to pay the bill. All I can do now is to be there and to stay until the end for the brother that I’ve loved and always will. For Paula's "Crisis" contest Won first place
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