it's a beautiful reality

today, wednesday february 9th, i flew back to philadelphia from florida.. away from the sun, away from my dad & brother, away from distractions. harry had been having a hell of a time sleeping the last couple days & nights so he passed out almost the minute the plane took off & left me to dwell on my neglected thoughts. i realized that 3 weeks ago, wednesday january 19th, scottie was also coming back to philadelphia from florida. he had decided the monday prior that he was going to leave by greyhound. he had finally received settlement money from a workman's compensation case. three and a half years ago my brother had his 3 middle fingers cut off of his right hand while operating a log splitter. he got the adjustment check in the mail & made the decision to come back north. my dad tried to get him to stay put. my mom's last conversation with scottie was a heated one. she was trying to convince him to remain in florida for just a while longer, & he got angry with her. his mind was made up. he was going to take the tuesday morning greyhound & would get back to philly on wednesday afternoon. i would be landing at nearly the same time that scottie's bus touched down at the greyhound station.

we all knew that scottie shouldn't be coming back to philly. but it wasn't like he was completely clean while living with my dad. he was drunk & nasty when i talked to him on thanksgiving. & the sunday before he left, my dad took him to the hospital because scott had been complaining of heart palpitations & not sleeping. it turns out he was going through acute alcohol withdraw. he stayed overnight & checked himself out early monday. i'm sure that there had been other instances of alcohol or drug abuse, but my dad most likely didn't tell my mom & me because he didn't want to concern us. or he turned a blind eye because he wanted so desperately to believe that scottie was actually getting better.

scottie had called me the saturday before he left florida, the day before he was admitted for alcohol withdraw. the only reason i picked up my phone is because i thought it was my dad. usually when scottie called, it was a strained conversation. it was hard to understand what exactly he was getting at. i would try hard not to get annoyed with what he was saying, & try equally as hard to get off the phone as quickly as possible. luckily, this wasn't one of those talks. when i answered, my brother pretended to be my dad, which he frequently did & with surprising similarity, but this time i knew it was him. he said he was on a walk & just wanted to say hi. he said that he had quit drinking again & was having trouble sleeping. he said that he loved looking at the pictures that i posted on facebook of harry & me. & that he couldn't wait to see his nephew again. i said that i couldn't wait for him to see harry too. but not to worry, there would be plenty of time for that... we got to say to one another: "i miss you" & "i love you." & that was my last conversation i would ever have with my brother.

my mom called me on monday to tell me about scottie's decision to come back to philly. i felt my stomach turn & i almost became physically ill, like something inside was trying to alert me for the next few days. mom & i decided to spend tuesday & wednesday together, to try to keep the fear & worry away, or at least subsided. & in case scott called either of us to pick him up from the bus depot, we would be together, a strong united front. we had a wonderful 2 days of bonding, playing dr. mario, making & eating food, staying up late, laughing.

we never heard from scott on wednesday. my dad let us know sometime in the afternoon that scottie had called saying he had arrived safely. he was using his friend's phone so he couldn't talk long. we were somewhat relieved that we wouldn't have to make the decision to pick up scott or not. we didn't have to worry if he was drunk or wasted, or if he would want us to immediately drop him off at the park to score drugs from his friends.

all this was happening exactly 3 weeks ago. & i was reliving it at 32,000 feet above the ground, with my son, whose turns 1 on friday, softly sleeping on my lap. it was all too much & i silently cried against the airplane window for the first time in a couple days. i didn't not want to leave florida to come back to this reality that i've had the fortune of ignoring for the past week.

towards the end of the flight, harry woke up with a sweet smile on his face. he ate the complimentary crackers i had saved for him while we watched the snow-covered earth - the same earth that scottie was traveling across 3 weeks ago - grow closer & closer. after we landed, i walked the long corridors of the airport & quickly down the stairs to find mike waiting by the baggage claim with a dozen red roses. i hugged my husband; he took harry & they nuzzled. i watched my family & was reminded that this is my reality. it would never be what it was before, when scottie was alive. but it would somehow still be beautiful, just as my brother would want it to be.