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Catlin Hugh Carithers my brother and hero

I am going to go off track a bit a talk about what yesterday was for me and how a situation at work had me leaving upset. Many of you guys already know, but for those who don’t let me explain. It was Sunday May the 12th of the year 2012. The time was 3:47pm and I was painting my brothers old room since I was living back home for the time being. The phone call said that I needed to get to the Hospital as quickly as I could, so with black paint on my shorts and an old t-shirt with holes on, I ran downstairs to let my parents know that Catlin was hurt during a prison riot and we needed to get to the hospital as quickly as we could. My dad decided to stay around the house and stated that he was going to be alright and that he was a Carithers and couldn’t be that hurt because he was tough. So my mom and I loaded up in the firebird and headed toward Natchez. After I was able to gather my thoughts and calm down, I began thinking about the situation and already knew what was going to come. My mom kept asking saying “Josey what do you think is wrong? He is okay isn’t he?”. Over and over again these words kept playing throughout the car like a cd skipping. I had a bad feeling about the whole situation and never once said anything to my mom about what I was feeling. How could I worry her so much with something that may not even be true anyway. To distract her, I put on some AC/DC to lighten the mood. I made up some stupid story about one of the songs and how it got its name. At this point I was doing anything to not only distract her from the matter at hand, but also myself. It was like being on an island with no way off and seeing a hurricane coming toward you that would surely be devastating. No where to run and no real shelter from the storm approaching. When we got to the hospital we were met by my moms sister and we were told to wait in the waiting room. As we sat there time seemed to forever creep by in a bottomless hour glass. A nurse came in and took us to a room right off the emergency room area. As we walked through the hospital, the women in the nurses stations glances pierced through me like a spike of ice. A feeling of numbness and darkness filled my soul as each step brought me closer to the inevitable truth. As we waited in the little room, time once again seemed to stand at a stand still. Finally, the doctor and nurse came in and the blank look on their faces were as haunting as any horror movie I’ve ever seemed. The doctor began to speak and was explaining that my Brother suffered trauma to his head and that he tired to bring him back but was unsuccessful. “What are you trying to say” my mother asked. The doctor was beginning to tear up and couldn’t even repeat or simplify his previous statement. The nurse helped him out by saying that my brother didn’t make it. As she finished these last words, I had already shut the door. Throughout this whole conversation I already had gotten up and was heading out the room. The look on the doctors face said enough and I knew the words that were to come. As I left my mom and aunt in the room, I walked slowly toward the exit so I could be alone and better process the whole deal. Empty and alone I felt even with people around. My brother was murdered and I was alone. My best friend ripped from me like he was never part of me. It was always us two against everyone else, but now it was just me it felt. My dad arrived at the hospital not long after because after we left the house he said he had a bad feeling about it and something told him to come to the hospital. This day still haunts me and causes me emotional grief. This is due to not only losing my brother, but also to the fact that I left my mom alone. Alone without her other son and alone inside herself. To this day she seems to be somewhere else from time to time. I tell people on that day I lost my mother as well. She will never be the same as she was several years ago, but none of us really will be. For we are all alone to an extent. Our minds are lost in that day and the memories of the events that took place. I can remember every detail about that day and Its something I don’t really want to remember but that I have to remember. That day forever etched into my being the man I am today. The one who makes people laugh, the one who drives my wife crazy, the one who tries to put passion into what he writes and the one who seems emotionless. I write to honor my brother and to escape the hell of that day. So this is my little short story of how that day in May played out and how my brothers death still haunts me to this day. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, but rather I want everyone to know why I’m the way I am today. Thanks for taking the time to read this and I dedicate this post to my brother and hero Catlin Hugh Carithers.



This post first appeared on LifesUniqueMind.com, please read the originial post: here

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Catlin Hugh Carithers my brother and hero

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