Essay My Mother Has Two Rules

1392 Words May 4th, 2016 6 Pages
My mother has two rules. Never touch Jamie’s things, and never talk about his death. She has a third rule, understood but never said. Don’t say Jamie’s name at all. Ever. Not to her at least. Not if she can hear you. Not if you know what’s good for you and for her. My mother didn’t go through the five stages of grief. She’s stayed in a perpetual state of anger about it for the last three years. I haven’t seen her cry about Jamie since his funeral. My mom goes livid at the sound of Jamie’s name now. And if you’re stupid enough to talk about how he died...well let’s hope you have a nice place to hide. Jamie was my brother. My younger brother. By 22 seconds. I never missed a chance to rub that one in when he was alive. My mother likes to blame his death on me, on all the constant teasing and fighting between us. I like to blame myself too, but I know it wasn’t my fault. On some degree everyone is to blame, but blame on this matter cannot be held to one person. I wish she understood that. When we were seven Jamie and I used to jump ditches out by the woods by the old high school. We pretended we were superheros, that we were flying through the air to the other side instead of jumping. The summer before we turned fourteen we decided to do it again. It wasn’t the same as before, we weren’t superheros. We were just us, and that was enough. Jamie was always very observant, he noticed things that I never could. While we were out he saw a glint of gold…

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