My brother Marty – 11/22/2001
I wrote this entry five years ago in my previous diary on this site…
I was in a cab this evening & mind turned to Marty. I normally think about him everyday but today it was with sadness. Dec 14 is approaching & that is the anniversary of his death in 1993.
Marty was a free spirit. We would go somewhere & immediately he would be running around with a crowd of kids. I would watch him through the window, holed up in a room, or clinging to adult company.
He was strong & competitive (a street fighter & the best at all sports.) He played the guitar, drums & was a very bad singer but a fabulous dancer. I loved to watch him move. We would dance together at weddings.
He never did well at school. He would spend most of his time sent of class or the principal’s office. Consequently, he missed most of the basics.
The one love of his life Vanessa was not impressed by his reluctance to get a "real job". She broke his heart.
He had grown up on the edge of trouble. He didn’t have a close relationship with my dad. I always worried he would get in trouble with the law. Then, he found religion at age 17. He was dunked in a bath for a baptism & spoke in tongues. He would lie in bed howling. He said that speaking with god was better than any orgasm.
He would roam the streets of Sydney preaching. He used to hang out at Kings Cross in pool halls talking to street kids. We often had young guys stay over at our house. We didn’t have much money & Mum would have these guys sleeping on our floor in a small apartment, feeding them Vegemite sandwiches.
The thing about Marty is that although he found religion, he also liked to party. He was able to reconcile the life of a messiah with the life of a rogue. He never stopped using drugs, dancing & loved music.
He was handsome, charismatic, a lady’s man. He would have five girlfriends at a time & they would all know of each other. But somehow, none of them ever seemed jealous, just privileged to be one of his.
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pan style=”FONT-SIZE: 16pt; LAYOUT-GRID-MODE: line; FONT-FAMILY: "Arial Narrow"”>He was a very affectionate, loving person. He would cuddle & kiss me, my mum & even his mates in public. He never had any shame about crying either.
We would sit in his room on his bed & he would smoke cigarettes with me, play his guitar & read me his poetry. He couldn’t spell but he could write. I would laugh at some of the words he used, thinking that he had made them up. I’d look them up in the dictionary & sure enough they would be there divine in meaning.
He was full of lightness & at the same time was in touch with the dark.
After years of worrying about how his future would turn out, not having finished school or had a job, I stopped nagging him to get his shit together. This happened because he had turned 21 & did not receive a call from his dad to say "Happy birthday".
It just came to me one day. He had his own job, giving other people hope. The old bible story, if someone asks for your coat; also give them your cloak. He used to say God doesn’t let the birds in the tree go without.
Things would always work out like that with him. Someone would always turn up to give him a lift, score him drugs, fuck, feed & clothe him.
When I came to this realisation, early December, I went out & bought him early presents. Clothes, shoes, a Walt Whitman book (his favorite poet) & some fruit. I came home & gave him his presents & he told me that he really felt love. I must have known he wasn’t going to be there that Christmas.
I was so down. I was lonely & cried. He hugged me. I was leaving & he said to me, as I left "Never give up on life". (That was the last time I saw him.)
I was walking home from work on the following week, thinking about what a beautiful day it was, so sunny & the sky so blue. I walked in the door & my phone rang. It was my mum. She told me that she had received a call from his best mate saying that he was in hospital, he had been in an accident. I said, "what hospital". She couldn’t recall. I frantically rang around until I found the one. They said to me, make sure you do not drive, get someone to drive you here, cops & a social worker will meet you.
I rang my dad, who I hadn’t spoken to since He’s birthday in August. He drove me to the hospital & said, "Do you think he’s been drinking?" I said, "Who gives a fuck about that?" This was the first time I had ever prayed. I prayed & prayed obsessively, "Please god, don’t let him be dead, don’t let him be dead, I’ll do anything".
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When we arrived, we drove up & there was my cousin & uncle. I jumped out of the car & I could tell by the look on their faces. Justin just said, "It’s the worst". My legs went to jelly & I collapsed in their arms. They held me under my arms & dragged me through the hospital howling. My poor dad, who had not spoken to my brother for a year had to park the car wracked with shame, guilt & shock all on his lonesome.
They led me into a room. There was my family. I kept asking, "Why has this happened?" "Where has he gone?" Finally the social worker said drolly "It’s just bad luck". I lunged towards her to tear out her eyes.
He had been in a standstill car when another car, on the other side of the road had an accident & became airborne & flew into a car that he was driving. He didn’t even have a license.
In his pocket he had about $3. He was wearing his new clothes. My dad & uncle identified his body. He had massive brain damage & was dead on arrival. His eyes were closed & he had blood coming out of his nose. I never saw his corpse. I couldn’t bear to see a boy who had been so full of life & energy lifeless.
Never give up on life. He was my own personal mustard seed. He has inspired me every moment of my life since. When I feel hopeless or low I think of his normal words of comfort "Every things gonna be all right".
Except I would never see his hair grow long, or him get married, or have kids, or get a job. I would never hear his bloody singing again, or his drug ramblings on paper, or him strumming his guitar, or him giving hope to one of his mates.
God I miss you Marty, 8 years down the track. You always said to me, don’t bother going to my grave unless you are going to dance on it, cos’ I’m not going to be there, I’ll be partying in my mansion in heaven.
You make me feel invincible except tonight my heart is heavy with sadness & longing. I wish I could have said goodbye better & told you in person how much you meant to me.
I wish I could have told you about the 1000 people that turned up at your funeral & who have honored your anniversary every year with visits & letters on how you changed their lives forever. I hope you are dancing tonight.
Love
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DE: line; FONT-FAMILY: "Arial Narrow"”>Blue x
Hi, I’ve found it now. I can see all of the entries! Thanks 🙂 I will read through and reply to your notes then.
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A fine tribute to your brother. I feel your sadness just reading your entry. He was going on in life his way, touching so many others with his zest for life. It ended with something that had nothing to do with him. It could have been anybody in that car, not even moving, you, me, anybody. I do understand your grief. When I was 16 my only brother was killed, an instructor pilot in a big bomber back in 1944. Six years older, he was my hero. I miss him still, even now when we’d be old timers together. Be at peace, Blue.
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ryn: thanks VERY much for that note. *hug*
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reading it almost brought tears to my eyes. i can’t possibly imagine your grief like a fellow noter could, but i hope you know that you’re in my thoughts and in a strange way i care about you as someone i know, though i really don’t know you at all. a few years ago i had to write a 3000 word auto sketch and at one point, i admitted in my writing that some things in life…
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…are simply not to be understood.
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ryn: I think the hardest part of it all is the recovery process.I don’t understand how people can be so cold.How can anyone turn their backs and be so uncaring when someone is screaming for help/love.Drugs can relieve physical pain,doctors can easily see it and people believe it.When it comes to mental anguish,people don’t seem to understand that it’s real too. Just as real as a broken arm.
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Our friends have most definitely lead parallel lives.Jas’ has had one night stands with guys and girls,he’s just been totally confused about his sexuality/himself and that all stems back to the sexual abuse.He didn’t know if he was coming or going and drugs didn’t help in any way.In hindsight,it’s for the best that his gf chose not to bring the kid into this world.That would’ve been a total
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disaster. With the amount of drugs that both of them were doing at that point,who knows what kind of damage she caused to the baby. It’s funny,in the past I wasn’t a big fan of abortion and the likes but going through this has changed my perspective on so many things.I’m still terrified of J trying to re-enter real life.He still hasn’t met family,friends,etc.With Christmas approaching,it’ll be
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difficult to avoid. Something you should know,J recently told me that he found it harder to avoid drugs in rehab than in the outside world.He told me everyone in there was jacked up.I thought they were just messed up from the effects of drugs,I was so distracted/upset by J’s behaviour that I didn’t take much notice, but J told me everyone was smuggling in drugs (from coke to heroin to pills)..
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Looking back, I don’t know if I’d want him to go back in there knowing that.He told me while crying his eyes out the first time I visited him in rehab that everyone was on drugs, begged me to take him home where he was safe.I didn’t believe him at that time though.I’m completley useless at opening up about myself.That’s my biggest fault by far.I almost never talk about my feelings.That’s why I
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started this anonymous diary.I didn’t feel there was anyone in real life I could talk to.Normally I would’ve talked to J and that’s one of the things I miss right now.Your friend has a drunk mom too..very weird.I will never know how anyone could abandone their own flesh and blood like that,a child they created and brought into the world.We’ve always been weirdly close (people regularly assumed
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we were lovers! we always joked about it,we finished each other’s sentences,we could read each other’s minds) but with this,our relationship has changed completely.I can feel us becoming more inseperable every day.I’m scared to let him out of my sight.It’s different to the friendship we used to have,I’ve turned completely into his mentor.
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I hadn’t thought about what that look in his eyes may be but I think you’re probably right.J has asked me if i’m scared of him too.In honesty,I have been.Not so much since he’s come out of rehab but before hand,there were times when I was terrified.I love him but his behavior was completely psychotic.Don’t think I went into it in diary but there were times when he lunged at me + fought me through
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tears.He wasn’t seeing me when he looked at me,he didn’t believe I was really me,I was evil taking on the form of his best friend..Looking back,I have no clue how I dealt with that,how I didn’t just break down.Today when I was feeling sick,he sat incredibly close beside me looking terrified.He eventually told me he was scared he’d made me sick and that I wouldn’t be there anymore.His line of
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thought sometimes seems to have reverted to that of a frightened little child.I want to just hug him,make endless promises but everyone is telling me that’s the wrong thing to do.I hated seeing the worry and dependence in his eyes today.What if I do cause him to become completely dependent on me for eternity,hinder his healing process..Yet I know if he thinks I’m not there for him,he’ll conclude
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that he has nothing and no-one.Every time he does something successful,overcomes some anxiety, he comes to me with a big smile on his face and all he wants is a little praise.IT makes me feel weird,knowing it’s that easy to make him happy right now.I like that it’s that easy,yet I don’t want him to stay with this child-like mentality forever.He did sustain brain damage but they said it shouldn’t
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leave him essentially ‘retarded’.As far as I remember,they were putting the dragging of his leg down to that.And that’s coming along well with physio.I can’t even remember half of the details about what the longterm damage would be,I just needed to hear the words “he’s alive”.I’m so glad to hear someone else has come across the randomness thing before.I’ve almost become used to weird stuff like
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“there’s a spotty red banana in the fish bowl”.I got that one the other day.We don’t have a fish bowl.. I was told to correct him if he came out with crap like that.It’s hard to constantly reprimand him over that sort of thing when he sees nothing wrong with it,it means something in his head.He just looks at me confused when he doesn’t get the right answer!I usually end up just ruffling his
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very short hair (which he still doesn’t really realize is very short) and telling him to ‘cut the crap, cockface’ (in a nice way!).I can afford a nurse,I’m just scared of too much invasion in our lives and me totally losing control,not knowing what the nurse is doing.Someone for a few hours would be enough,P is sorting that out apparently.He didn’t tell me much,just told me not to worry,he’ll sort
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The money situation could get very complicated.I’ve basically been very lucky financially in my career.Jason’s family are extremely wealthy but haven’t shown any interest.This doesn’t bother me.I’ll pay whatever it takes.Over the last couple of days,it’s slowly become apparent to me that J has somehow over the last couple of years got himself into an insane amount of debt.Perhaps that contributed
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to the OD too..He doesn’t seem to know anything about it now.Once he’s panicked about money,who’s paying for everything.I told him I was taking care of it all and we’d sort it all out somewhere down the line(I don’t expect him to pay me back but I know he’d stress a lot at the thought that I was paying for all).He told me he would go to a bank,get a loan but I promised him I was just giving him a
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an interest-free loan.Anyway,pretty soon we’ll know how insurance is going to work out.P reckons work-insurance won’t pay for any of the hospital fees due to it being an OD (and they’re trying to prove it was intentional..).Got to wait and see how that goes.I can afford to pay (I think) but I’m not going to think about that right now.I’ll blog it when I know more.Just hoping Orla didn’t cause all
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of that debt on his accounts!Can’t exactly ask him about it right now.Don’t worry,I’m human.Too human most of the time 🙁 Anyway, that’s all for now.I shall read through the rest of your diary later 😉 Get to go for some therapy now, get reprimanded for giving J too much love.
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I just read this entry. *hugs*
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You always do so well with words. Saying so many wonderful things about your brother. And it seems he would have said so many wonderful things about you. Often all we can do is live our lives to the fullest and enjoy every opportunity we can to suck in all life has to offer. In this way we can pay tribute to those who are no longer in our lives.
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<3 aw, love.
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i adore my little brother. i can’t imagine not having him around. *hugs*
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ryn He really wanted to insinuate that i’m doing this for me,to heal me,that no-one cares about another person that much without wanting something out of it.he was so smooth and arrogant.I’m just seething with rage over it,trying to just bite my lip and concentrate on my toothache. He’s coming ’round again today..
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It’s weird, there seem to be many many similarities between our lives. Yep,it’s the grossness of someones hands rooting around inside your mouth. Why would anyone want to do that job, whatever the money?? I’m on lots of painkillers right now, got tooth pulled.Have a big swollen cheek and jaw 😀 Shexay!
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A beautiful tribute… sounds like an amazing guy. I love my family, not sure how I’d cope without any one of them.
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Thanks for noting, I’m glad I found your voice. Very well said.
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::tears in eyes:: That was a greast tribute. Came here through RD. I lost my brother too – to suicide. It’s been almost a year now, and it really hurts. I think sometimes I will never stop hurting.
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i miss marty now. a lot.
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