Not terribly much to update just yet. A meeting has been called by the doctors with the family at 4pm today, where i'm sure we'll be filled in on where everything is currently at and what we can expect. By nature, I guess we're all fearing the worst, although I did gain some hope when I heard he was breathing without the aid of a machine last night.
The mood at the hospital was rather light and good humoured, which I think really does show that remarkable side to the Akers clan. Even in the face of something so hideous, we never seem to lose our sense of humour, and amongst a lot of the nostalgia last night was a lot of laughter and love, which was good to feel. By the end of the night though, I felt so drained and talked out, and was pleased to hit home, crawl into bed and watch a film. I've been sleeping 'ok', considering the circumstances, although still find my mind often wandering and wondering about Rosie, Mum and Dad.
Mum and Dad seemed a little more calmed yesterday; i'm not sure how much of this is an act or how reconciled they actually are. Rosie spent a little time last night to herself as well, which I felt she really must have needed. It was probably the first opportunity she has had since Sunday night to take everything in, to think beyond the immediate, and to contemplate what possibilities were right in front of her. She has been so remarkably strong over the past few days, holding a brave face, and I really do admire her for keeping her spirit as positive as possible.
I must admit that i've been avoiding calls and questions from friends as much as possible. I sent an email out to immediate friends yesterday, just to fill them in since it felt like something that they would probably want to know sooner than later, but also so that I didn't need to constantly address and re-address it afterwards. I appreciate their love and concern, but I guess in circumstances like this, I do often appreciate my own space and my own time to reflect on everything. I've kept the news pretty tight amongst my circle of friends, not wanting to lay unnecessary awkwardness with anyone, but moreso with those who are likely to call or pop in out of the blue.
If anything, it has been great to see so much of my family over the past few days, although under such horrible circumstances. I found myself utterly drained by the time I left the hospital last night though, finding that I was beginning to go inside myself and just shut down; although this provided much ammunition for Sid. However, to see the family laugh and stick together is a great thing, and i'm glad Sid's loud sense of humour can help maintain that (i'm sure he must be even more exhausted at the end of the day).
I've come into work today (currently on lunch), and even managed to fit in a client visit, which is remarkable considering my head is all over the place at the moment. But I would rather keep myself busy during moments like this than sit around and dwell. It's not a case of denial, but moreso just a chance to allow my mind to focus on other things and to not be consumed with grief. Besides, I know I wouldn't want that if I was in Mark's place, and knowing Mark, he would want us to celebrate his life and show our gratitude for having had him in our lifes.
Mark was a unique soul. What some might consider limitations in certain fields of his life, he used to fuel him forward in other aspects. When I think of Mark, I think of a hard worker who pushed himself to get things done, and someone who was devoted to the people who loved and understood him.
As I type this, my brother Mark is lying in a coma in a hospital. A dramatic first line, but absolutely factual. As I went to sleep on Sunday night, I could never have predicted the surreal way that my family's world would turn over the course of the next few hours. And I wanted to take a few moments on this Tuesday morning before I get ready to head into the hospital, to remember Mark and to thank him for the brother that he has been.
The funny thing about the five siblings in my family is that we are all so remarkably different in so many ways, and yet we do seem to fit together well; like some bizarre dna jigsaw puzzle. There are some similarities running through us (mostly in the form of our humour, which has notoriously been rather warped), but at the same time, we are all so different.
Looking through photo albums, i've realised how few photos i've had of Pep (as he is known to the family) and myself. I suspect this is for a couple of reasons; but firstly, because there is a fairly big gap between us, as I was growing up, he would've been out partying... And then as he was settling down, I was out partying. That, and I hate cameras. I've realised more over the past year or two that I don't know or see my family as well as I should, mostly due to jobs that have consumed so much time before, and to the distance between where we live (although it's no excuse for not picking up the phone, although I ain't much of a phone person).
Mark has been responsible for a few lasting memories from my childhood.
Firstly, a some what gruesome one, and one with i'm sure is perceived as a little odd, but the first time I passed out. Mark had had all of his teeth removed to make way for false teeth. He had come home, groggy, and proceeded to lie on the couch fairly much continually bringing up blood which he spat into a bucket. Now, i'm sure my young mind (I would've been under 10 years of age) remembers this as being far more gory than it probably was, but I remember thinking, "So much blood...", and just feeling that something wasn't quite right with this image. I was thirsty... went to the kitchen to get a glass of Tang... and next thing you know, i'm being helped up from under the kitchen chair by my family. Turns out I had passed out, hit my head on the chair and put a tooth through my lip, so I sat down and minded my own bloody wound. Ever since then, I can't cope looking at blood for fear of passing out (even gory films will do it to me).
My next memory is far more positive, and perhaps explains a little about my passions. It was my birthday. I was turning perhaps six or seven. I had gotten up really early - it was daylight, but it would've been early, even for a kid. I had dressed myself excitedly, and gone to the backyard to play. Where I grew up in Airport West, it had this large backyard, along with a shed, and a bungalow that Mark lived in (and that I would later claim as my own during my early teens). Mark must've heard me playing outside (I was probably being annoyingly loud, thinking that people should be up to celebrate my birthday already with me), and invited me into the bungalow. Now, keep in mind - young kid... teenage brother... not the combination that normally associates, and so the invitation was rather appreciated on my behalf, and like stepping into an elite gentleman's club, I went in. Mark was very much into the nightclub scene at that time, and loved buying records and DJ'ing. He pulled out this new track that he thought was going to be a big hit; this track called 'Born To Be Alive' by Patrick Hernandez. He played it to me, and I loved it. He asked if I wanted it on a cassette, and I happily accepted. The funny thing is, I don't remember one single other present I would've received that birthday, but I wore that cassette out, playing that song over and over and over again. It was the start of my musical development; something that was to not only play a large part, but dominate so much of my existence.
Then there was Mark offering me a pair of black platform shoes to wear to school... in the early 90's. Yeah, right.
As we both grew older, and Mark's fascination with girls and fashion and going out increased, it saw the birth of his now infamous nickname, "Pep"... short for "Pepe", or "Pepe La Pue". Mark literally used to bath himself in cologne. He would walk out of the bathroom and you would nearly chock on the latest aroma that he had sprayed to every possible inch of his skin. I remember the year that we joked about him printing up a mass of Valentine's Day cards to hand out to the multitude of lady friends that he had seemed to accumulated (or, at least, I hope we had joked about it...) During this time, Mark and I existed as an older and younger brother should, although our relationship was never as volatile as Russell and my own. Being the next brother up from me, Russell had the 'torturing rights', so to speak. And then Mark met Rosemary, a beautiful woman who seemed to tame his proverbial savage beast, and, as was with the rest of my siblings, he moved out of home and set up his new life with his beautiful wife.
The funny thing about my adolescence years is that I often felt like an only child, although I knew I wasn't. I guess I received the best of both worlds, having siblings there sometimes and sharing those moments, but much of the time, also having my own space to express myself. I was commenting to my sister Leanne yesterday that I felt like our family were more tighter now than they possibly ever have been, simply because we've all now settled down and are, in some ways, in a more similar place individually than before. I was 'wayward' during the FMR years, barely having enough time to maintain my friends let alone family. And even now, with the distance a satellite city provides, still feel somewhat removed at times (through no fault of their own). My family work hard to keep me involved, and I appreciate that now more than ever. The irony being that Mark and Rosemary are building in Port Melbourne, and I was so excited to have a sibling moving back in near me again. I still recall Mark trying to sell Melton to me back in 1991 with "they have a bowling alley and karaoke every Thursday night." I lasted three months before relocating to Prahran.
And then my 30th... Mark made such an impression that night. The number of my friends who later told me about how they had met him and how much he loved me really drove it home. Mark has always been the big, friendly bear. His height, mixed with his solid build, may have sometimes intimidated initially, but his personality always won people over. In retrospect, I don't think I ever told him personally that I was gay; I think he just kind of accepted it and accepted me for who I was with no questions asked, and then when Ant came into my life, accepted him as well and immediately welcomed him into the family. Even last Christmas, sitting over at Russell and Deb's place with Mark and Rosie along with Ant and myself, it was such a casual, free flowing conversation and it felt like family.
Russell phoned me before, just wanting to hear all of our voices this morning. We talked, agreeing on the philosophy that 'it is what it is'. I've always had an altered view to loved one's passing. I feel sad that I won't see them in this lifetime again, but I also know that they're never far - they can still hear us, feel what we feel, see our achievements, and support us in our pains. It's like we're in one room, and they're in the room next to us - occasionally, you can hear them through the walls, and you know that they're still there. As I said to Russell, there will always be five of us.
I do feel helpless, knowing how much this is tearing at my parents, and part of the immense sorrow I feel is for seeing the people I love in such pain. Yesterday, it was a numbness - a strange and surreal way to start my week. The nurse was wonderful, explaining in great detail everything that had happened, what they had done, and what they could do, but the vast majority of it was lost to that dominating inner voice in my head that was asking a million and one questions that the nurse couldn't answer; 'How will Rosie cope?' - 'How can I be there more for my family when I often feel like i've let them down and not been there enough?' - 'What next? And how?' - 'Is there any chance?'
If there is anything these horrible situations remind us, it is that life is short and we don't know what is going to happen next. This second that I type these words, the shell of the man I know as my brother Mark is medicated and machined alive in an intensive care unit of a hospital. Every dream and wish on his 'to do' list sits there unchecked, and useless. How much hesitation stopped him from doing what he wanted? How much insecurity that we aren't good enough, or worthy enough, or smart enough, or strong enough, holds us back from achieving what we want in this instance and moment that will exist for only now briefly and then never again? Life is short, and the routine of our existence is bogged down with bitching, whinging and reason that we use as excuses to stop us doing what we want. This isn't to say that Mark was like that, but more to reflect on those who go to bed on a Sunday night complaining about having to work the next day when people like my brother go to bed on Sunday night and then cease to exist as they are known.
The only thing that it brings home is the importance of love and positivity. I hope Mark can reflect over his life, and realise how much love, adoration and respect there is for him as he finishes this life. To know that whatever limitations life threw at him never stopped him from achieving an existence of being loved, and now missed.
So, to my brother Mark, I say thank you for being a truly beautiful sole who loved his family, his wife and his friends - who roared in this world like the Leo he is should - who influenced me in many ways, but who never showed judgment on the people he loved - and who, regardless of if he is physically here or not, will always be recognized as a part of our family. I love you. We love you. And that will never change.
As an after thought, i'd also like to say a special thank you to Leanne and Sid, who have been 'the hub' since Monday morning. They called me. They keep me informed. They check in to see how I am. They continue to make jokes and make me laugh. They've helped keep everything as palatable as possible. It makes you realise how exceptional they both are.
And also to my friend, and boss, Michael, who has given me the space to just be and to respond as needed. Many other people wouldn't, and he has been wonderful since this has all begun.
And lastly to Ant, who has always put the needs of others before his own, and been there not just for me but my entire family since finding out.
It is people like these that make me realised how truly blessed I am.
