(word count 866)
There is an old saying that says, “With much, comes great responsibility.” I wonder if there is a saying for great loss. A little over thirty years ago, I was born in the small kitchenette apartment of a brown stone walk-up in the Back Bay area of Boston. I was born one week before my older brother’s first birthday. My mother lovingly says that he helped to deliver me. Because of the closeness in the dates of our birth she deemed to call us “her twins.” Several years later when he was 28 years old, I lost him. My brother’s death brought questions, sadness, and also hope to a few unexpected people.
On the morning of November 19, 2003, we began to ask questions of what happened to Rah-Ja. Resulting from conflicting information, the facts were difficult to discern. “Is he dead? Where is he?” I received several telephone calls from his children’s mothers. Without delay, I decided to call the sheriff’s office for a clear answer. However, none came. Once it was established that my brother was dead and had been murdered, we wondered why. Although we loved Rah-Ja, we knew that the criminal lifestyle that he lived would bring us grief. The puzzling part was that he had expressed a desire to change. I remember having talks with him about settling down and perhaps attending college. In many ways he showed evidence of his desires as well. Just the fact that he was spending more time with the family and his expression of dissatisfaction with his life encouraged me to hope better things for him. We grew concerned when he moved in with an old friend of his. This old “friend” was his partner in crime. Sadly, the question of why he was murdered remains unanswered for us. Quite naturally, we all burned to know who the culprit or culprits were. “Word” on the street was far from helpful. There were those who didn’t want to get involved, yet those who apparently had information but chose to be loyal to the “streets.” So it was evident that some of the people that we spoke to knew something. Curious information came from the authorities: This was a double murder case, yet detectives believe there to be one murderer. We questioned this point because of the setting (being the victims’ home) and personal information that we know about them both: Such as the fact that they both slept armed, and that Rah-Ja was a light sleeper.
Anyone can relate to the loss of a loved one, so when I speak of the sadness that touched our lives during this time you will understand. My mother weeps, even now, when speaking of him; though she surrounds herself with things of him. The grief from the loss, drew my younger brother inside of himself, and nearly tore the two of us apart. Strangely enough, I have not yet found the proper way to grieve the loss of “my twin.” This will not be hard to believe for someone who has experienced such a tragedy.
Just as a phoenix is rebirthed from its own ashes, hope claimed a home with some of us again. At the conclusion of the funeral service a dear friend of mine and mother of Rah-Ja’s youngest son, came to me. She, like the rest of us, felt the loss deeply. After observing me and speaking with me she noticed a certain peace that I had that she wanted for herself. She told me that she wanted to live a new life. She expressed her interest in knowing Jesus Christ in the way that I did. She wanted to be a Christian. My friend grew tired of living the street life and admired my life. I can say that was one of the happiest and most humbling things that I experienced during that time in my life. I say humbling because I knew of the pain that I felt inside, yet I was happy to be used by my Lord to share with my friend the peace that she could have through Him. A year later she had gotten married and left the street life. After going through many difficulties, my younger brother, Rahsaan, realized how fleeting life is and reconciled several things in his life; one of which was his relationship with me. Now we are closer friends than we have ever been. Rahsaan continued his college education and graduated this summer. As for me, though Rah-Ja was gone, and it grieved me to let him go, I was able to develop relationships with his children. Some of them visit with me on a fairly regular basis.
With the questions, sadness, and the triumphant hope that were a part of my loss, it was a queer experience that was necessary for my growth as an individual. Even though there may not be a saying for great losses, my brother, “The Thinking Man”, as we loved to call him, left us with a saying: “Never lay [sic] with the dogs, instead fly with the eagles.” With that, I am content to hold on to.
There is an old saying that says, “With much, comes great responsibility.” I wonder if there is a saying for great loss. A little over thirty years ago, I was born in the small kitchenette apartment of a brown stone walk-up in the Back Bay area of Boston. I was born one week before my older brother’s first birthday. My mother lovingly says that he helped to deliver me. Because of the closeness in the dates of our birth she deemed to call us “her twins.” Several years later when he was 28 years old, I lost him. My brother’s death brought questions, sadness, and also hope to a few unexpected people.
On the morning of November 19, 2003, we began to ask questions of what happened to Rah-Ja. Resulting from conflicting information, the facts were difficult to discern. “Is he dead? Where is he?” I received several telephone calls from his children’s mothers. Without delay, I decided to call the sheriff’s office for a clear answer. However, none came. Once it was established that my brother was dead and had been murdered, we wondered why. Although we loved Rah-Ja, we knew that the criminal lifestyle that he lived would bring us grief. The puzzling part was that he had expressed a desire to change. I remember having talks with him about settling down and perhaps attending college. In many ways he showed evidence of his desires as well. Just the fact that he was spending more time with the family and his expression of dissatisfaction with his life encouraged me to hope better things for him. We grew concerned when he moved in with an old friend of his. This old “friend” was his partner in crime. Sadly, the question of why he was murdered remains unanswered for us. Quite naturally, we all burned to know who the culprit or culprits were. “Word” on the street was far from helpful. There were those who didn’t want to get involved, yet those who apparently had information but chose to be loyal to the “streets.” So it was evident that some of the people that we spoke to knew something. Curious information came from the authorities: This was a double murder case, yet detectives believe there to be one murderer. We questioned this point because of the setting (being the victims’ home) and personal information that we know about them both: Such as the fact that they both slept armed, and that Rah-Ja was a light sleeper.
Anyone can relate to the loss of a loved one, so when I speak of the sadness that touched our lives during this time you will understand. My mother weeps, even now, when speaking of him; though she surrounds herself with things of him. The grief from the loss, drew my younger brother inside of himself, and nearly tore the two of us apart. Strangely enough, I have not yet found the proper way to grieve the loss of “my twin.” This will not be hard to believe for someone who has experienced such a tragedy.
Just as a phoenix is rebirthed from its own ashes, hope claimed a home with some of us again. At the conclusion of the funeral service a dear friend of mine and mother of Rah-Ja’s youngest son, came to me. She, like the rest of us, felt the loss deeply. After observing me and speaking with me she noticed a certain peace that I had that she wanted for herself. She told me that she wanted to live a new life. She expressed her interest in knowing Jesus Christ in the way that I did. She wanted to be a Christian. My friend grew tired of living the street life and admired my life. I can say that was one of the happiest and most humbling things that I experienced during that time in my life. I say humbling because I knew of the pain that I felt inside, yet I was happy to be used by my Lord to share with my friend the peace that she could have through Him. A year later she had gotten married and left the street life. After going through many difficulties, my younger brother, Rahsaan, realized how fleeting life is and reconciled several things in his life; one of which was his relationship with me. Now we are closer friends than we have ever been. Rahsaan continued his college education and graduated this summer. As for me, though Rah-Ja was gone, and it grieved me to let him go, I was able to develop relationships with his children. Some of them visit with me on a fairly regular basis.
With the questions, sadness, and the triumphant hope that were a part of my loss, it was a queer experience that was necessary for my growth as an individual. Even though there may not be a saying for great losses, my brother, “The Thinking Man”, as we loved to call him, left us with a saying: “Never lay [sic] with the dogs, instead fly with the eagles.” With that, I am content to hold on to.
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