This story is a very emotional story for me because in it, some bad things happen to my family. It was especially hard on my brother. Aren’t brothers great? When you have a brother, you have a friend, a partner in crime, and a confidant. With a brother, you have someone to go on camping trips, a fishing partner, and an opponent in all the games you play. My brother and I had big plans. We were going to go hunting together, play sports together, and play pranks on our sisters. But our plans were rudely interrupted. Someone ended trying to change our plans, but he didn’t succeed. Look at me talking about endings already, I haven’t even given you a beginning! A story is no good without a beginning, and this is my story, the story of my brother.


My story begins with the news that I finally have a brother. Now I will have someone to play with, someone to talk to, someone to befriend. I have not seen him yet, but I have heard about him, and I am waiting at the hospital to have a look. I hear that he is handsome and big for his age. I can’t wait to see my new brother.


Well there he is, my new brother. I am so happy to finally get to meet him after nine months of waiting. I am looking forward to the day we can leave the hospital with him and go home to our new house. Our new house is great, in fact, we bought it because of my new brother. Our house has plenty of space outside-we have a big yard and even bigger woods in the backyard. Just think of all the fun we will have there-playing catch in the backyard and hiking in the woods. We can’t leave just yet though. My brother isn’t feeling well, and has to go to the bathroom or he will be sick. We might be staying here for a little while.


My brother went to the bathroom today, and he is feeling better, though he still feels a little sick. The doctors say we might be able to go home soon. I am passing time lounging around, waiting for another chance to visit with my brother. I get tired of talking with the nurses and start to count ceiling tiles. There are 84 in the room. I have been staying up a lot lately, and I am getting really tired. Maybe I will take a nap.


I got to visit again today. Bro looks a lot better. He is going to the bathroom so much now that he has Mom and Dad worried. My family is passing the time much like I am. They are just sitting around, waiting until we can all go home. We have been waiting long enough to go home, I wonder what the holdup is?


I have been spending some time with my grandmas today. We have been talking about nothing in particular. Grandma Buehner tells me that the weather in Colorado is nice. Grandma Musick says that I just get cuter every day, and that she likes my dimples. I turn red when she says that.


I died today. Mom and Dad decided to unplug my respirator today. They determined that it was the right thing to do, and I agree with them, because in doing that, they gave me the best gift they could have possibly could have given me. They gave me the keys to the best room in the universe. I have been very sick for eighteen days with a blood complication. During this time, I have been hooked up with what seemed like hundreds of wires and tubes. Today, my brother got to hold me for the first, last, and only time. It felt good to be held by my brother-he was so calm, and yet I could feel that he loved me. It was such joy to be held by my brother, and to see all my family before I left. When the doctors took me off the respirator, they expected that I would only live for a few moments, a minute or so maybe, and then I would be gone forever. They were wrong twice. After I was unhooked, my brother looked me with intense and wet eyes, awaiting the inevitable. Boy, did I surprise everyone! I stayed around for another seven hours, much to the chagrin of the doctors and nurses. I just could not leave the brother I had come to love so dearly without leaving him something with which to remember me. My parents named me Maximus, after the character Maximus in the movie Gladiator, because I fought for life just as he fought-with strength and honor.


Today was my funeral. I was surprised how many people showed up. It seemed like the entire church showed up, along with many other people who knew my family. There is the person who helped me come into this world, Dr. Duhart. I can see my brother sitting in the front row, he is staring solemnly staring at my casket. He is sitting with mom, dad and the rest of the family. Everywhere I look, people are crying. Why can’t they be happy? Don’t they know that I am in a better place? Now I have no tubes, no stickers, no IV, nothing. What is there to cry about? We get to ride to the cemetery with a police escort, and I get to ride in front. At the gravesite, there is another small service, and everyone says their last goodbyes. But it isn’t a last goodbye, it is only a “see you soon.” I hope it is soon too, because they don’t know what they are missing down there.


My story is like a roadrunner cartoon. All the poor roadrunner does is run around and “meep,” but the coyote tries to kill him in every episode. The coyote comes up with so many elaborate schemes to dispose of the roadrunner, but all his efforts fail, as if someone is actually watching over the roadrunner. Imagine in the final episode of roadrunner, the anvil finally lands on his head. The coyote thinks he has won, but suddenly, the road runner pops up, gives another “meep” and flies away. The roadrunner was almost impossible to kill while he just ran around, how much more will he annoy the coyote now that he can fly? I am sad that my death left my family in such sorrow, but I am glad I had such an impact on their lives. I was not happy to see the people that had kept me alive on earth feel so sad, but I am glad that I no longer have to lay in a hospital bed all day, counting ceiling tiles. I am sorry that I had to leave my brother so soon, but think of it this way, I get to pick out the best room ahead of time. To my brother, until we meet again, “meep, meep!”