Mexico City, DF, Mexico— It was October of 2012, and I was coming back from school, but unlike other days, my parents didn’t pick me up. Anyways, I was so excited to arrive home and see my new baby brother, the sun was shining, my eyes were bright, my feet were eager to run faster, and my arms were ready to hug. When I arrived, I crossed the yard and opened the front door, and a cold breeze came out of the house.

I was looking for my parents until the door to the furthest room opened. There they were, waiting for me with smiles on their faces, but I could see the sadness in their eyes. I ran to their arms and asked them what was wrong, then my eyes dimmed, my feet felt heavy and tired, and my arms fell, unable to hug. My baby brother had gone to heaven that day. I was devastated. Suddenly, I began to think of all the things I could have done with him, all the clothes my parents had bought for him, and the dreams of having a brother that vanished rapidly. The following months felt empty, despite my daily routine remaining the same: going to school, doing homework, taking baths, reading, and sleeping, and on some weekends that we went to the park or watched a movie, something was missing, someone was missing.

I felt guilty about enjoying those moments for months because I wanted my little brother to share them with me. I started to neglect enjoying time with those still around me, mainly my
parents, who I now realize were going through a harder time than I was. I was selfish to think it only affected me. But then, faith came again into our family when one day God blessed me with not one, not two, but three little siblings who make me the happiest person on earth today. They brought light and laughter back into our home. I slowly learned that it was okay to share and rejoice in life again, knowing that my brother was watching over us. Years passed, and later, just when I thought we had begun to heal, my mom received a call from the hospital, but this time it was about my dad. My aunt had brought him there because he had been having a bad pain and when he was admitted by the doctors they told us he had a bad incident going on inside of him and that it was a miracle he was still alive, on the other hand, the procedure they had to do came with a 90% death rate. It was the scariest event we had ever faced, and that made me realize more than ever if I had enjoyed the time with my dad enough and if I was prepared in case the procedure failed. And I realized that you will never be prepared to let someone you love that much go, but that is another story altogether.

Through all of this, my little brother taught me to enjoy every moment of life, be grateful for those who are still with us, and to allow myself to feel the sadness of loss. It’s okay to miss
someone and cry their absence, but we must also honor them by living our lives fully. My heart learned that moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting, it means carrying their memory with us.
Whether it’s talking to them through the stars or sending cards to those far away to remind them they are lovable, just let them know, because we never know when our last moments will be, so it’s better to remember the laughters, the tears, and the memories we share, rather than regret the things you wished you had said or done with them.

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Collective Thoughts is a blog published once a semester by UIC student authors. Our blog is open to an array of genres, including fiction, essays, and creative writing pieces. Our blog is an open space for our UIC students to IMAGINE, CREATE, and INSPIRE as they share their creative expressions. The mission of Collective Thoughts is to provide a platform to showcase the unique voice of the developing and emerging writer and to foster the love of writing.

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