My Brother’s Keeper
What I did yesterday while my brother had his leg amputated
Yesterday my big brother Lucian had one of his legs cut off. It’s so unspeakably awful; words can barely describe my profound sense of powerlessness. After I dropped him off at the hospital, I sat in the car, numb and conflicted, unable to move.
I had no idea what to do next.
About 10-minutes later, as I sat in the car, engine running, my phone vibrated. A text from the hospital read, “The patient is in the pre-op area.”
I drove back to my brother’s house in silence and fed the dogs. Then, I started baking biscotti. Batch after batch of lemon-almond biscotti. Unable to sort my thoughts, I kept saying to myself this, I can do.
The Highsider
By any objective standard, my brother’s life has not been easy. When he was 20 years old, what was supposed to be a fun day of motocross racing with his friends at the track turned into a nightmare in a matter of seconds.
Lucian was going around a long sweeping curve at about 45 miles-per-hour on the dirt track. As he leaned and twisted the motorcycle, the back tire slid, lost its grip, and then suddenly regained it. He was flung violently over the bike, only to be struck by the heavy cycle a moment later.
