But even if it does, you'll just do it all again

"There's a bird in the patio." she said softly as the post-wisdom teeth removal narcotics spread into her system. She must be mistaken because the patio was covered and the door closed. I stepped outside to verify my hypothesis. Sure enough, I see a bird frantically searching for an exit. Another bird on the other side of the thin, wire grating was waiting for his friend, beckoning the new inmate.

My brother was born in Vietnam. The doctors found a fatal growth on his brain that left him with physical and mental disabilities. If it were not removed, he would surely perish. They fled the war-torn land, literally dodging bullets and surface to air missiles to the shining shores of America, where they could seek help for their son. It's a miracle that he survived.

Bao could not speak or sign or communicate in any capacity. He could not walk. He could not function without medical care so my parents had to leave him at a special care home in Corpus Christi.

Every summer of my childhood, we'd visit. I never knew what to say or do. I never knew how to feel. Why couldn't I ever talk about him. My friends would ask me about my family. How do I explain him in a way they can understand and in a way that doesn't make me feel like I'm different?

During camp, we split up into small discussion groups. One of the days, we discuss family. We do an activity in which we build our family sculpture using the group members' bodies to symbolize our nuclear family. Body language could be set to represent characteristics of the family member. Physical proximity could be adjusted to express emotional distances. Every year, I get to the part about my brother, and I break down. I don't cry simply because I'm sad. I cry because I feel. I feel sad because he can't live a normal life. I feel joy because he lives a life. I feel guilt because I have my health. I feel shame because I couldn't ever talk about him. I feel proud because even without a voice, he was able to shape mine and our family's. He shaped our mission and set us on a path. We met others on the same path. The fight is slow, but good is happening. The heart of this community is as big and calm as an ocean. We speak loudly and clearly for those who can not.

You never had a voice. We will speak for you. You never walked. We will walk for you. You never lived a life. We will live for you. You never had a choice. You had to keep on living with the living. I guess you and I are not so different after all.

I opened the door of the patio. The bird flitted around finally finding release. I went back inside and sat down next to her. "Hey, Mel. I'm going back to Arlington tomorrow." "Oh, what for?"
I held my chest trying to hold onto everything that would fall out of me, "it's my brother...He died."

It all came falling out anyways.