It feels like yesterday, yet so much good has happened to me in the year that's passed. I had a baby, my husband and I finally are together, I succeeded in so much and yet that all means so little when I remember this day last year. Life is short, it gets taken away, it's never fair.
When I was 5 months pregnant with my daughter the tragedy struck and I remember feeling like what was the point of bringing life in this world for it to be torn away? I watched my parents know the worst pain in the world as their baby was taken from them, I felt scared, like I was setting myself up for that exact thing.
One year later and I can remember his sound, smell, and presence. He was my little brother after all, and all of his life I was by his side- loving him, caring for him, helping him, teaching him. I was supposed to die first, and I suppose that's the source of my greatest guilt and feelings of betrayal.
As if it could be worse, a week prior to losing my brother I was rushed to the hospital with bleeding, I remember sobbing over my baby, fearing the worst- losing this creation I never got to know. Alhamdulilah she was safe, but I feel like my brother's life was traded and I never felt that was fair. My parents suffered so much, the fear of losing their grandchild and the reality of losing their youngest child. 18 years of love, blood, sweat, and all the hardship that comes with raising a child just to have him pass before your eyes.
Like all before him, and everyone who comes after- he died. He died a hero, he died noble, he died in love, he died with love, he died with his family. That's not something everyone gets at their last moment.
