Brother Tom Part Two

In high school he was the star. Looking back, I see this became a double edged sword for him. He was cheered and popular, but, as what happens to far too many high school stars, they are not used to things when the luster of fame wears off. After graduation, the spotlight turned off on him. No longer the''star'' in school, he became an ''extra'' in the real world. His dream of baseball never came true. A scout from the California Angels did see him and take his name, but, nothing came of it. His heart was broken because of what might have been... Tom tried college, but, flunked out after the first semester--- he just went to party anyway. He came back home and got various jobs in sales. He did quite well-- again, whatever he did, he did well. But, the bitterness of not being more than what he was set in deeply. The fights in the family became more pronounced. Dad took the heat from him, and, of course, I did too. However, I was no longer the little boy who took the abuse from him, I was a teenager who stood up for himself and answered him back. The fights grew in intensity. It became sadly obvious to me that my brother simply did not like me. My negative feelings towards him were reactionary, I was on the defensive. Once in a great while, we would share a good time, but, like when we were kids, it was illusionary... He found love in his early 20's. Her name was Lisa. I know they worked together and she seemed nice and good for him. Beyond that, I know nothing else. We didn't share confidences of women. In fact, the only area we had total agreement in was our privacy in our dating habits. We didn't go around bragging or gossiping about women. I do know he liked to have a good time with them, and vice versa... His relationship with his girl Lisa ended sometime in the late 80's. He took it hard, so hard, that I found him in the garage with the car running trying to committ suicide. He saw me, snapped out of it, and, drove away before I said anything. Later on, when he came home, he talked to me and wanted me to say nothing to our parents about what I saw. I refused. He obviously needed help. That became another fight. I did tell my parents what happened, and, that they should watch him.They spoke with Tom and a heartbreaking emotional scene transpired. Everybody started crying. My parents, understandably, were frightened. Tom assured them it was only a fleeting incident, and would not happen again... Life soon became normal again. Tom straightened up and got a great job in Ohio, where he met another woman and they became quite serious. Since he was in another state, and, were weren't speaking, I really don't know much about his life out there. He seemed to love life out there and was happily living his life. The Christmas of 1994, he came into town and everything seemed fine with him. We could barely stand to stay in the same room with each other. I think, even though we never put it into word, that we both knew it wasn't going to work ever with us as brothers. The chemistry was just not right. But, we were family, and, the unspoken feeling we had was that if one of us was in trouble, then family blood would win out and we would be there for each other... The following September 22, 1995, the call came in the middle of the night... I was at my parents house when the phone rang at around 2am. The police were calling from Cleveland. The words went like this: '' I am sorry to inform you that Tom was killed tonight. He jumped from a 28 story building. We are calling it a suicide.''... Stunned, I sleepwalked to awaken my parents and to tell them news that would break their hearts.Dad was stronger, he held Mom while she broke down. All the next day, Mom was in bed while various family members came to comfort her. Not only was her son dead, Tom was always her favorite. One time I walked in there I heard her crying softly for my brother. She kept saying.. '' My poor little boy..''... There was nothing left of Tom's body, the coroner office said the body was '' unviewable''... I talked to the police all that long night and next day. I got the details of what happened. My brother, in deep debt that we didn't know about, was out of work and had just lost his girlfriend when she ended the relationship. On the morning of his death, he did get another job. He also saw his girl at some bar with another guy. This guy we later found out was an old friend of hers. Some words were exchanged... My brother, drunk with rage and alcohol, drove to her condo and confronted them there. He beat the shit out of the friend and the police were called. The friend left and then my brother climbed up on the ledge, in a threat to jump. The police were dealing with him when the incident turned tragic. Depending on which story really happened, Tom either jumped by his own doing or fell accidently. The police say he pulled away from their reach when they tried to grab him. His girl said Tom jumped on his own accord. The police say in their report it was a suicide. I have to go with that.... It really didn't matter to me how he died. He was gone. That is all that mattered. I held myself together fairly well that day. I had to be strong for my parents. But, late that night in bed by myself, the tears came. Wracking, sobbing tears. I was crying for the family tragedy, to be sure, but, I was also crying for my lost brother I never really stopped loving....