May 21, 2024

The day my life changed forever

It was a day that started as a normal, typical day. I woke up. I checked on my new kitty that I picked up the night before. He was a little spooked by his previous day’s adventure and being uprooted from his life and coming to a new place where nothing was familiar. He ended up hiding in the litter box most of the day. 

The only thing out of the norm was that I would be meeting coworkers for an in-person day in Boulder. 

12:23 pm Neil called me. We were on our way out to get lunch, so I didn’t answer, thinking I’d get back to him later. And in all honesty, whose call are you going to ignore most, if not a sibling’s?

We get back to the house around 2 or so. 

2:32 pm I get a hard fall alert from Neil’s Apple Watch. 

I call my dad right away to find out what happened. If they were with Neil. If they knew what happened. They didn’t know anything. 

20 minutes go by. Then my dad calls and says that EMS took Neil and Kamran (his youngest son) to the emergency department at a hospital not too far from my house.

For a few minutes in that in between space of waiting for an update, I thought this was just like all the other times he had an accident. I hung up the phone and started packing to leave. I almost said to Angela when I told her what happened that I had a bad feeling about this. But I didn’t want to speak it into existence. As if that could have altered the course of…anything. 

It was about a 40-45 min drive to the hospital from Boulder. On the way I call my dad again to see if he could get an update. He calls me back and said they told him to “please come,” and that they couldn’t tell him anything over the phone. My heart sank even more. I haul ass as quickly as I can. 

3:50 pm I arrive at the hospital. (The death certificate says he died at 3:45pm. But I believe he was gone from the moment of impact.)

I check in and they lead me to a room where Amber and Kamran are. Kamran looks perfectly fine, he was sore from the seatbelt injury, but no visible cuts or scrapes. I thought ok maybe it’s not bad. I ask if they heard anything about Neil. Amber said no. I asked Kamran if he was ok and that it must have been scary. He said yeah, it was really glory (gore-y and bloody combined). I felt sick. 

I’ve been to the ER for different people many times. But this time, for the first time, I met someone you don’t want to see. The hospital chaplain or director of pastoral services. He introduced his role as if it was part of the norm. It’s not. When you see this person, it’s bad news. It means the worst has happened or the worst is about to happen. My heart sank again even more. 

Multiple people from the trauma surgeon to nurses came in. They took Kamran away. All those little things added up to what my brain and heart knew but I didn’t want to believe. They tell us, Amber and I, Neil was in an accident. He suffered major head trauma and didn’t make it. I felt like I went outside of my body. Had a breakdown. Amber wondered how she was supposed to tell her kids their dad is gone forever. She told Kamran and they eventually went home because he wanted to be home. And I didn’t want him there when the parents found out. 

For the next hour I was alone with the pastoral director. The hospital admin came in to ask for his info to wrap up paperwork. Because life doesn’t stop for death or grief. The police came to give me his storage keys and ID. I got texts and phone calls from my family, but I didn’t answer. How could I? I went between shock, despair, and feeling catatonic. Eventually, our parents arrived. I could barely look them in the eyes when they came into the room. The ER surgeon told our parents the same thing they told me. Neil had an accident, he experienced major head trauma. He didn’t make it.

I hope you never have to see your parents go through that, if you have siblings. I called my sister in Florida. She was already crying and said she knew. She had called Amber because she couldn’t stand not knowing anymore. She said they already got tickets and will be on their way the next day.

Then came the next part, letting the world know. I took on the role. I messaged our families in India. Our neighbors. Our friends. His friends. My friends. Messages poured in of shock and disbelief. People asking what they could do to help. I had no idea. Could someone turn back time and bring my brother back? 

We left the hospital eventually. It started to rain. How ironic. I drove home with my parents behind me. I was in a fog. How is the world still moving and going on, when my world as I knew it died? 

There are so many layers and more to this day. I still have to process it. Later that night, I was playing phone tag with the coroner’s office. Because life and paperwork don’t stop for your grief. Then I’m on the phone with the donor alliance. It all felt so cold and impersonal. My world blew up. I couldn’t even begin to process that my brother was gone forever. Why am I answering questions about his health history? Leave me alone.  

I try to sleep that night, but how can I? I woke up the next morning feeling raw and as if I’d been shattered into a million pieces. 

The grief isn’t as sharp in some places, but it’s razor sharp in others. I hate that this is the rest of our lives. But we have no choice but to keep living and figure out what our lives look like without you here. 

This last year has broken me apart in so many ways I didn’t know was possible. But somehow, I will find a way to live a life that honors you. Until we meet again. I love you. I miss you.