English week 3 assignment

A Life Experience I Regret the Most

Not so long ago, I was convinced that everyone should be able to live with his own choices and accept the consequences when said choices were bad. But a recent life experience taught me that we cannot always accept our choices. I tend to be a strict person, and I used to think that people, me included, should not ask for forgiveness since one should on the contrary accept to be punished for their behaviors or actions if necessary. Life is full of surprises, and I discovered that I could not be more wrong, above all when a love one is involved. Indeed, one of my five brothers, Jimmy, recently passed away, following his lifelong condition of sicklemia and his multiple hospitalizations. He was an easy-going 34-year-old man, lively despite all the adversities, and who always showed love for his brothers, me especially, due to the fact that people always pointed out how alike we looked. This eye-opening experience made me realize that one should always ensure to pass the higher amount of time possible with people he loves, a lesson I learned the hard way after my migration to the United States and lack of communication with Jimmy, the passing away, and the void Jimmy's absence left in my heart.

          Life events oftentimes affect and alter relationships. Not so long ago, less than a year to be precise, I migrated to the United States. I remember his watery eyes when I told him that I would no longer be there. He was wearing blue jeans, and I literally heard how he wept silently. Initially, after I left the country, we communicated almost every day. However, soon after, the calls and messages became rare. I unfoundedly assumed that everything was fine, like an idiot, and I was not able to imagine that something terrible could possibly happen. Habits vary in function of our journeys, which is not always good news.

          Nonetheless, the following months would prove me wrong as life would strike me with a baseball bat, right in the head. Jimmy was hospitalized, and the grave expressions of the doctors made him realize that time things were more serious. He was admitted in a hospital in Port-au-Prince, and he did not contact me the way he used to do it before, for me to help him with my connections in the medical field. It was not until his condition worsened that I received a message from a mutual friend, confessing that Jimmy did not want to bother me. "He made me promise to not tell you because all his life he has done nothing else than bother you, and that you deserve your new beginning, out of all that drama.", the latter revealed.  Immediately, I contacted my fellow Haitian doctors to ask them for help, which they provide me without thinking it twice. Unfortunateley, a few hours later, I received a call from Jimmy's wife. Before taking the phone, my heart leaped in my chest, and my heartbeats covered the first words that came out of the speaker. Surprisingly, I could sense the bad news, and I already knew what was going on even before the spouse started to weep. Jimmy passed out. I had never been so confused before.

          This ringtone announcing this miserable outcome opened a room of sorrow whose existence I would have never suspected otherwise. I was not saved by that bell. On the contrary, the weight of the whole world was upon me, merciless and tireless. I would revive in my head his laughter, clearer than mine, more frequent too, as if I were the one suffering, the one with those hospital stays. Unnoticed tiny silver rivers fell from my eyes as he was almost there, before me, and at the same time so far away. But the worst had to come as I was constantly wondering what I should have done better to avoid such a terrible result. Maybe I should have texted more often; maybe I should have asked friends how he was doing. Guilt was even worse than the loss itself. It is true that he is my half-brother and that he did not live under the same roof as my other brothers, but I should have inquired. I spent the next few days in the mire of those mixed and cruel emotions. I would not be able to assist the funeral physically because there was a lot of insecurity in the surroundings of the only airport international airport that made the link between Miami and Port-au-Prince, which was another issue for me: I did not even have the opportunity to make a proper farewell, the last one that time. A day before the funeral, I proposed to my brothers to use zoom meeting to help me be with them in at the ceremony. Everyone wore white since he was a catholic priest, and because -that was my personal conclusion- he was so pure in his heart, although I am aware of how cliche that sounds. I will never be able to fill that void that this marvelous mind left behind.

          My brother Jimmy's death took me by surprise after I began a new life in the land of opportunities, the United States of America. Having missed the opportunity to be present for him during his last days and to intervene in favor of a better ending, I have since then a hollow heart and an omnipresent sensation of guilt. If I had to identify a positive aspect into this ocean of nightmares, it would be the realization that we should not postpone spending quality time with the ones we love since it is unsure whether those opportunities will be repeated or present if we want to rely solely on our availability. Life taught me that lesson. Anticipate the lessons that life has to show us and act accordingly. Indeed, it always does it with a leather string in the hand.