My Brother David

“When brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life.” ~ Antisthenes

“A brother is someone who knows there’s something wrong even when you have the biggest smile on your face.”

“We came into the world like brother and brother; and now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.” ~ William Shakespeare

“Sometimes, brotherhood is stronger than friendship and deeper than blood.” ~ Don Winslow

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!” ~ Psalm 133:1

I remember telling my son about how his uncle, my brother, was in a coma after a serious accident at an ironwork site in Vancouver. I told him how we fought every single day for my brother to come out of that coma.

I explained to my boys that their Kukum (my mother) and Mushum (my father), who were both very well-read, had told me something important while I was at the hospital in Vancouver: "You need to read to your brother. Talk to him. He will hear you, he will understand, and he’ll know that you're there with him. Your brother David will fight for you, and for all of us."

So I did exactly that.

I sat at my brother’s bedside and spoke to him. This was the same brother who helped pay for my university tuition, my glasses so I could read, my rent, everything. He helped me get through seven years of university in the U.S. and Canada. And now, I was there for him.

I told him, “You need to come back to us. We need you. You’re not ready to go to heaven. You’ve got to fight. You need to be with us.”

I read to David constantly, books of every kind, fiction and nonfiction. While reading, I’d ask him questions like, “Why do you think this character did that?” or “What do you think this means?” I had full conversations with him, believing he could hear me.

Six weeks went by. I had numerous conversations with doctors who were losing hope. They isolated me, told me the costs were too high, and said David would not recover. But I refused to give up. I told them, “Just give me time. I will pull and drag my brother through this. God is with us!” They looked at me like I was crazy. I didn’t care. Not one bit.

I kept talking to David, reminding him of all the times he helped me and supported our family. He had always been there for us.

I read him everything, novels, textbooks, magazine articles, anything I could find. And I talked, knowing deep down that he could hear me.

Then, just when the doctors had given up hope, David opened his eyes. The first thing he said was, “I am so sore... and I dreamt that Gary was telling me stories and telling me to wake up.”

I collapsed beside him in tears, thanking God for everything.

My brother came back to us.