One Last Ride

The following is just some stuff I have not been able to write about until now...but it's still hard to write.

The night before my brother passed away I had a "talk" with him and my oldest sister. It was about their stinky, teenage attitudes. I told them that they needed to be grateful for what they had, blah, blah, blah. And that doing the dishes, feeding the dogs and taking out the trash is not a lot for parents to ask. And to stop sighing and rolling their eyes at everything mom and dad say to you. Basically I told them to stop acting like teenagers.

I ended the conversation with, "You never know what could happen tomorrow." I know this sounds cheesy but those were my exact words. I was leaning more towards my stepmom not being there "tomorrow" because I knew how sick she was.

Later that night my oldest sister and brother took the dogs for a walk. Apparently, they were talking about what I had said to them and somehow got started talking about what they each thought was the worst way to die. HOLY FRIGGIN' SHIT - I am sure neither one of them thought that they would die the next day.

The next evening my sisters, stepmom and I were at a ceramics store when my step-mom's husband called. He was just calling to let us know that he and my brother were having a great time riding the 4-wheelers. He said that they were getting ready to go out for one last ride before it got dark. That was the last time my brother was alive. It's so weird. Who would have thought that it was literally going to be my brother's last ride...