I don’t know where you are in life. I don’t know what you’re doing with your life. To be quite frank, I don’t even know your name. I could easily figure out your name, but I don’t want to know you. I don’t even know you and you caused my family so much hurt. You ruined my brother’s life, you ruined my family's dreams, you changed all of my family's lives. You put hurt in all our hearts, and you left us with a bad taste in our mouths. You’ve made me question every day how something like this could happen.
On October 4, 2001, you let anger get the best of you in your very own daycare. My fragile infant brother was the victim of your wrath. You took matters into your own hands and instead of comforting my baby brother you shook him. You shook him and shook him until he stopped crying. You shook him until his brain turned to mush. You shook him so much that he was purple and lifeless when my parents came to get him. You shook him to the point of hospitalization. You shook his voice away. Now the only noises he can make are coos, awws, and cries. You shook his eyesight away. Now he can only recognize faces by voices and blurred images. You shook his ability to walk. Now he lays there every day only able to move his arms and legs. He can only sit if he is in a chair, buckled down. You shook his ability to hold his head up, and now he has to receive an intensive surgery to straighten his back once more. You shook his ability to taste food. Now he gets every meal through a feeding tube. He will never know what a birthday cake tastes like on his birthday, he won’t know what steak tastes like, he won’t know what any flavor of drink tastes like because of you. You shook his ability to use the restroom. His pride has been taken because of you. You shook him so much that he has a stent in his brain just to help his brain work properly. You shook him to the point where he often has seizures now, and we are lucky to see another day with him after each seizure. He won’t ever play a sport, participate in the school play, have a girlfriend, have kids of his own. You decided his destiny when he was just a fragile child. He didn’t get to choose his own. Because of your anger, you ruined any chance he had at a normal life. Because of your anger, I will never know how long I have with my baby brother.
Although somehow you got away with what you did to my brother, I hope you live everyday with the guilt. I hope it haunts you. I hope it keeps you up at night that you hurt a precious, innocent baby. With your own bare hands, you almost killed my brother. I hope it hurts you that you hurt my family. You know you are guilty, and you know who you are. I pray you see this someday and see just how much you have hurt my brother. He didn’t get to choose this life because you chose it for him. You chose the wrong profession and I hope you pay for it in your thoughts. You got away with what you did in the courts, but I hope it never leaves your mind that you hurt someone to that point. I hope you never have the nerve to hold a child again, and if you do I hope you imagine the day you shook my brother. I hope you have gotten help since then to deal with your anger. I pray you found a new profession. More than anything, I just pray you feel bad for what you did because I feel so bad looking at my brother whose life is anything but ordinary.
You took so much away from my brother, but you didn’t take everything away. You didn’t take his feelings away. He can still laugh, cry, and be mad. You didn’t take his precious laugh away. A laugh you can hear from one end of the house to the other. A laugh that can make the whole room smile, and laugh as well. A laugh that gives us a sense of ease that he’s not in pain and that he is okay. A laugh that assures us he is still getting a good life as hard as we try. You didn’t take his smile away. His contagious, huge smile. His smile that makes you know he is genuinely happy at that very moment. He doesn’t know how to fake a smile; it is a real smile. A smile that I find myself constantly finding in pictures and looking back on. You’ll never take his family away from him. He will never live in a special needs home. My parents, siblings, and I will continue to take care of him. He will always be surrounded by family. You will never take his fight away. After many close calls, he is still fighting. He is strong. He is stronger than you because in a moment of frustration you freaked out. He doesn’t give up. Someday I hope I can come to grips with everything you did to my family and forgive you. I so badly want to forgive you and someday I will be strong enough to do so. Until then, I will continue to look at my baby brother and think about all the what ifs. I will continue to reminisce on the day my dad called me crying, saying, “Something terrible happened to your brother and it’s not looking good.” I will hold onto those words forever because that’s the day my eyes opened up to the bad in this world.
