Watching my Brother Die...

My brother is dying.

I can’t save him,

He can’t save himself.

My brother is dying because

Cancer is sometimes unstoppable,

No matter what we do.

No matter how hard we try.

No matter how hard he fights.

Sometimes cancer is unbeatable.

My brother is dying.

His light of love that has fought like a tiger for every moment

Of his existence.

His light of love that has sustained the rest of us through every painful loss.

His light that has taught us how to live;

How to fight,

How to love,

How to forgive,

How to enjoy, to thoroughly enjoy every moment of life.

His light that has taught us the meaning of perseverance,

Of grace when faced with pain,

Of courage under fire.

His light is going out and I,

I can’t imagine getting through my days without his light to show the way

How will I navigate this world without his light?

I will have to pick up his flame.

I will have to move forward and show the world his light.

I will have to fight for the best life I can live,

To honor his that was cut too short.

I must celebrate his love, his light, and his teaching.

I will have to persevere.

I will have to teach people how to live,

How to love,

How to fight,

How to forgive,

How to grow through the pain,

How to persevere when hope is lost.

I must speak his name to all who will listen,

I cannot let his legacy of love and light be forgotten.

Zach, I honor you.

You will continue to teach, your name will be known.

My brother is dying,

But he does not die alone, his light will shine on.

My brother, Zach, and I were diagnosed with cancer the same week in December of 2020. Mine was treatable breast cancer and I underwent surgery in February of the next year, had radiation treatment and I am considered cancer-free at this time.

Zach was a different story. After months of being treated for what the doctors wrongly insisted was pneumonia, Zach underwent emergency surgery and was diagnosed with lung cancer. The worst lung cancer. Mesothelioma. By the time it was diagnosed he was already at Stage Four.

He was referred to a specialist and underwent immunotherapy. It slowed the growth down for a short time but did not seem to do much else. Other treatments were not an option due to his extreme weakness.

His mother and I went into overdrive researching every alternative protocol we could find. Many alternative treatments are cons so it is like wading into a swamp and trying to find clean sand. We did find some legitimate protocols. I believe they did slow the growth of the cancer and bought Zach a little more time with us. The biggest benefit was the relief of some of the pain.

As his pain became more severe we enrolled him in hospice care to provide more support and help him deal with the symptoms.

I developed a new routine. I would stop at his house on my way to my own cancer treatment and bring him soup for lunch and give him a foot massage. Then after my radiation treatment, I stopped again to eat with him and rub his feet again. I called doctors, read articles on cancer treatment, joined a support group, anything I could think of that might help us through this.

But this cancer was unstoppable. It just kept growing and eating away at Zach. My muscular brother went from 160 pounds to less than 90. Mesothelioma is relentless.

In June, Zach said "good-bye". His spirit flew off to the other side while my son, Zach's best childhood friend, sat by his side sending prayers to Creator asking for Zach's passage to his next journey to be peaceful.

Now my new role is to try and support Zach's mother, my stepmother, through this overwhelming, mind-blowing, crushing grief that only a mother who has lost a son could begin to understand.

We want the world to know Zach. He was a fighter from day one. As a small child, he had many health challenges. He met each one with courage and faith that he would overcome. At age nine he fought through a devastating diagnosis of a brain tumor. The treatment for that tumor left him permanently disabled and he was still living at home under the care of his family when he passed on at age thirty-seven.

Zach rarely let his situation get him down. I never heard him say, "Why me?" He greeted each day with joy, happy that he was alive and ready to learn something new. He had the craziest sense of humor. Zach loved puns and crazy jokes. He had us all laughing through all the terrible days of his illness. As we all cried he did his best to cheer us up and would do anything he could to make us smile.

He never stopped learning and his research into natural health inspired all who knew him to reach for herbs and essential oils and nutrition before heading to a doctor. He wrote a blog on essential oils and their uses and he knew more about nutrition than most medical doctors I know.

He was very active in the local Brain Injury Support group. He participated in many activities and inspired fellow sufferers to reach their full potential. He was the co-founder of Sunny Day Care, a local group dedicated to supporting people with brain injuries and providing healthy activities for the participants. He was the spirit behind the formation of the Zach Alber Foundation which aims to fund support programs such as Sunny Day Care and others for the disabled.

Before he died Zach asked me to plant a tree for him in a park near his home. We had planted a tree in our father's memory five years before in the same park. He particularly wanted a golden weeping willow. Those two trees face each other across a playground where his nieces love to play and where we still walk his little dogs.

I miss my brother. He was one of those rare, generous, kind-hearted people that quietly go about making the world a better place without any fanfare or need for recognition.

Life is hard sometimes. There are many days that I ask, "Why Zach?" And "Why did I survive a cancer diagnosis?" Survivors' guilt is real and sometimes I am very sad.

I am trying to focus on the good times and on the many life lessons Zach taught me. I am trying to leave a legacy of light and love, just like he did. I am trying my best to honor his memory by living my best life.

I am grateful when I wake up in the morning. I am grateful to be alive and I look forward to seeing him again when my own journey here on Earth comes to an end.