I heard you were in a motorbike accident last week. They said it was quite bad. Nevertheless, I had a strong belief that a young muscular boy like you would survive.
One day later, you were still in a coma.
On the third day, doctors said your brain didn’t transmit signals to your heart. They need to open your skull to relieve the pressure.
On the fifth day, the swollen lightly decreased. Positive sign.
2 days after that, half of your brain is dead.
Today, they stop all the machines. I can’t believe that.
The sun still shines beautifully, the sky is still blue. The forest I walk is the same green. But you are really far away. Really…. gone.
I cry when I think about your mom, a 60-year-old woman, has to attend the funeral of her only 27-year-old son. How will she feel when she cleans your apartment and collects your left things?
I recognize that the death indeed is not as far as I thought. It can come anytime, anywhere and to anyone.
I learn that saying “love you” is never too much.
I stop moaning about my coming 30th birthday as many people like you will never reach that age.
Your body is donated. Many parts of you will keep “living” with people, who are in need.
And now you are not 12-flight-hour away anymore, my little brother.
You are just one thought away.
-A true story about a brother who I once knew-
