…but the pain is felt throughout my family.

It’s crushing to see a love one, in that way. You blame yourself you weren’t always nice to him. You meditate if he’ll ever be the same again.


When someone's sick, this is the only image you remember...

At first we thought it was a minor problem. But today’s medicine has a strange curve. Most of the time, when you’re admitted, you’re just in a stretcher with no apparent sign of damage. Once you’re inside the hospital, the image tends to blur. As more medicine is applied, more signs appear. It’s as if, being in the hospital made you sick. And doctor’s intervention made you worse and worse. If all goes well, after the ordeal, you swoop the curve and come out.

Sometimes you come out as you were before. Sometimes, it’s a completely different you, devoid from what you are and full of what you will. Sometimes this new you isn’t liked by your relatives and friends. The “miss” the old you. But you can’t go there again. It seems that what got you in the hospital in the first place… it’s what people say. So there’s no turning back.

So although we wish my bro’s will get out and be back the same, deep inside we know it won’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s for the bad.

But this metamorphosis is painful in itself. That curve, not only swells the patient but us, the inpatients–the other ill.

In the end, both are change. But it remains on both side to it be for the best. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it don’t.

But it’s up to us… no one else…except G-d.