The Bond of Triplets: What it Feels like when One Passes Away

I was born, along with two brothers, James and Jack, on January 10. 1977. My mother at the time had no idea that she was giving birth to triplets. Back then they didn't do all the tests that they do now to determine multiple births. Needless to say, after our birth, we were the talk of the town.

Growing up with two brothers wasn't always easy. They had each other to play GI Joe with and racecars, while I sat in my room and played with my Barbie dolls. It always seemed like to if one of us got in trouble we all got in trouble. When we reached our pre teen and teenage years we were always fighting. Sometimes it could lead to some knock down, drag out fights. I guess that applies to all siblings, but no matter how much we fought or how much we got mad with one another; we were always there to protect each other. I can't tell you the countless fights we got into with our peers just because they were picking or harassing one of us.

As we reached adulthood my bond deepened with my brother James. Jack had moved to Atlanta so we hardly saw or was able to talk to him. James and I would hang out and I could talk to him about things going on in my life. James was one of the first people that I felt comfortable with on coming out as a lesbian. He accepted me no questions asked. I remember him cracking the typical male jokes when I came out to him. They still make me chuckle till this day.

September 28, 2005 James passed away at the age of 28 from a massive heart attack. The night it happened was the worst night of my life. My mom received a phone call that James had been rushed to the hospital with chest pains. Her and my step dad rushed to Alabama where he was. Once my mom got to the hospital she was stopped by one of his co-workers. He told my mom that James was sitting on the bed in the hotel room. He asked James if he could use his cell phone to make a phone call and James gave him the phone. The next thing he knew James went limp on the bed and fell back. He had started turning blue so the co-worker called 911. There was no saving him no matter how much they worked on him.

My brothers and I had always been there for one another and the fact that James passed away in that hotel room alone was upsetting to me. I couldn't imagine one of my brothers not being in my life and now here I was minus one of them. When James passed away a piece of me died with him. There is a void that I don't think can ever be fulfilled. You no longer feel like you're a whole. I had lost my brother and my confidant.

After he passed away, to me it just didn't seem real like it was all a bad dream and at any moment I would wake up. I would find myself reaching for the phone because in my mind I hadn't talked to him in a few days, only to be hit with the realization that he was no longer on this Earth to talk to. I would cry and call Jack and talk to him and he would be feeling the same way. We both felt lost.

As the months went by following his death, the pain became less. The void was still there and until this day continues to be there. I still miss actually being able to talk to James. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him and wonder how his life would be today. When he passed away he left behind a fiancé and a baby on the way that he will never know. There are so many things I still wonder about. When I feel overwhelmed or just feel the need to talk to him, I head for the cemetery. Even though he can't talk back to me I feel closer to him and feel better when I leave. He's always going to be a part of me and I take comfort in knowing he is up above and watching over all of us.