thisismegin's video: The Death of My Sister-The Epidemic That is Killing Boston

The disease of addiction is all around me, and it has been my entire life. Because of that I dont judge people who struggle, I have fought hard to help my friends and family who have this disease. The disease of addiction consumes the body, mind and soul. Many, many times I had wished that Becca's disease had been one that affected the body only, where it is good and right to surround the afflicted with love and care in the midst of their battle. Becca's disease carried with it the unbearable pain of loneliness misunderstanding, separation and, at times, anger from those of who could not understand addiction. In many ways her birth was a miracle. Our Mother was told she wouldn't be able to have more children so it was quite a blessing when she was born. I was just barely four years old when she arrived. I remember my grandfather coming to stay with my brother and I while my parents were at the hospital and I even remember the cereal I ate that morning. From that day on I had a new roommate, and once a year we moved to a new town, from the Berkshires, to the year we shared a small room while living with our grandparents, it was off of our grammys room and it had all of her dresses in it. After a couple years of living in Stoneham we finally got our own rooms. My sister never had an easy life. She was born with a condition in her eye that she needed to wear a patch to help correct it. I remember my parents making me wear the patch as well because like many younger siblings she always wanted to be like me. As an older sibling we sometimes reject the adoration given to us by our younger siblings because we strive so hard for independence. I distinctly remember pushing my bed into a walk in closet in the room we shared in Pepperell so I could feel what it was like to have my own room. Now years later I would give anything to be in a room with my her again. I look back on her life and wish so many things would have been different for her. One thing no one could ever deny that knew her well was that, in many ways, Becca was a very selfless person. Anything you needed help with you knew you could ask and she would be there. There were many times over the years that I was in a situation where I needed the help, like when I fainted in the shower and becca ran in, pulled me out got me to wake up and called our mother to take me to the hospital. Were she not there, who knows? Many of her friends have been posting small memorials online this week and that has been a reoccuring theme. On Sunday while hearing the doctors tell me they did all they could, but she was gone, when I went into the room to see her, I held her cold white hand, during all of this I kept thinking to myself, but she never got to go to Disney World. She loved amusement parks and rides and I am so grateful that this past summer, she and I got to spend the day at Canobie Lake Park with her son Connor. To see her smile, like she did all those years ago when we were just kids in line for a ride is something I will keep in my heart forever. As kids we used to watch Disney movies over and over, letting our imaginations run with Cinderella, Ariel and Belle. Maybe it was because our childhood was the way it was but it would have been beautiful to know she could have been there in Disney to live those day-dreams again. To just be a kid again. Believe in magic. When Becca was 19 she gave birth to her own version of magic in Connor. He is growing to be the amazing person he was born to be and we can all rejoice in the knowledge that she gave him to the world. It is so unfortunate that he will never really get to know her the way we knew her when she was at her best. But I promise to tell him great stories, like how I fought and begged her for days, weeks, even while we were in the hospital and she was in labor, to not name him Connor. She wouldnt budge, which was strange because I could usually talk her into stuff. Not that. No one will ever really know what our childhood was like, not our parents, only the 3 of us. A sibling is someone who has gone through those moments in life that only a sibling could and would understand. They share those formative moments, those experiences that with just a glance between you can say novels worth of words. I can look at our brother Jonathan now and just looking at each other we know things only the 3 of us experienced. We shared everything - baths, clothes, barbies, laughs, tears, and blood. I love you Rebecca and I always will