I had the worst sleep last night. I tossed and turned all night and cried my eyes out. I have been trying to call my brother, Tyrone for three days now and each time I call him, he is sleep. When I finally reached him on the phone, he said he could not talk and he sounded awful. My heart dropped. I am not a doctor and I do not want to feel guilty or put any blame on our family for his condition nor because he is now in Hospice. I know he really wants a lung transplant but I really do not know enough about anything to get some results. His pulmonary doctor is the same pulmonary doctor that out mother has. I really do not care for the doctor. It just feels like he is not a caring medical professional. This doctor never returns phone calls, or responds to the any written correspondence. I really love my brother and would just about do anything for him, but some things are beyond my control.
As I lay in bed last night, I remembered all of the good old happy fun filled days of our childhood. I remembered how mama left me in charge of the house and my little brother. I had to be in the 7th grade and in junior high school (Bertie Backus Jr High) located in Washington, D.C. Mama would make dinner before she left out for work. She would leave a note on the plate giving strict orders on how the food was to be distributed. Her note read,” one pork chop each for you and Tyrone, and two pork chops for your dad”, and those were some serious instructions. My job was to make it happen. So, when we both came home from school (latch key kids), I made sure we completed our homework, finished our house chores, and ate dinner just as mama instructed by six o’clock and bath for bed by nine o’clock p.m. Done! I was the organizer and in charge. I remembered when I was 17 years old and I joined one of my brothers music bands. My! My! My! I had some big fun then. I was the female vocalist and my baby brother who was larger than I in size and in the business protected me from every music predator. Smile! We performed at so many places and met a whole lot of people in the music industry. I remembered when my brother visited me in Los Angeles (LA) and let my daughter and I participate in is music video. Go to http://www.youtube.com and put in “Tyrone Brunson”. What a great time. I remembered when my brother was all healthy and happy in 2003 when he attended my wedding to Curtis Sharard Gilmore at Glendale Baptist Church in Capitol Heights, Maryland officiated by Pastor Anthony G. Maclin and Pastor Keith Byrd. Fast-forward to now and my talented baby brother does not have enough wind to walk from his bedroom to the bathroom and is now dependent on oxygen tanks. I really love my brother. If I hadn’t said it enough to him in my eyes, my smile, my hugs, and my caring for him now in his greatest time of need, I am writing it for the world to know. I really love my brother.
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