My Birthday Wish

I stand there with 8 candles in front of me. I smile it's my day. There are 8 candles. Everyone is singing to me.
I have a fabulous mother. She was that mom, the mom that thought every ones birthday is their very own special day and even with my birthday less than a week away from Christmas, she still managed a kid party and a family party for me, every year, without fail. And never once gave me that dreaded Christmas/Birthday gift.
I stand in front of 8 candles, the song is coming to an end, some cousin is singing that I smell like a monkey and then there is silence. I inhale all the oxygen I possibly can and hold it in tight, I make my wish and I blow out all 8 candles.
Will this be the year my wish comes true?
It had been the same wish I made every year since I understood what a birthday wish was and it had yet to come true. It wasn't for a pony, or a bike. Although I really wanted another sibling, a younger sibling, it wasn't for that either.
It was that my brother could walk.
My brother and sister are twins. They were born in the early 70's in a tiny catholic hospital in Nogales, AZ. My sister delivered just fine, but when my brother wasn't coming and they knew my mom needed a c-section, yet the surgeon was out of town, she had to labor my brother. He came 30 minutes later, blue. Dead. He was revived and survived. He was flown to Tucson and eventually came home. My parents did not know what would be his future.
Bryan has severe quad spastic cerebral palsy. Although he has brain damage, his mental status is as any other man his age. Of course he has "issues" that nowadays would have been diagnosed and put in some sort of therapy for, but we just called him strong willed. And he is.
I never looked twice at Bryan. He was my brother. I was 6 years their junior and I liked him because at least he, unlike my sister, was never too cool for me.
Bryan as a kid was joyful. He had this huge smile. He liked to make jokes and would even make fun of his self with his strong slurred speech.
He also had anger issues and would blow up over the tiniest of things. As kids we fought. He and my sister had knock down drag outs. We joke that we all have permanently dented shins because of all the times he ran his chair into them.
But I always had a strong love for my brother. I mean, strong hate too at times, but it never was indifference towards him. When I rode my bike, he'd drive his electric chair, we had fun times together.
But I wanted to him walk.
I wanted him to be on the football team, not a mascot who got to sit on the sidelines wearing a jersey. I wanted him in the Olympics, not the Special Olympics. I wanted him to have real friends, not ones who did drugs and taught him to smoke and make contraptions for him to smoke by him self at 16. I wanted him healthy, not just physically but mentally.
Bryan has always been fighting demons. I think it was a curse for him to be mentally well and stuck in a body so physically sick. As I look at him today, right now he lays in the hospital, once again for drinking so much he put himself into a dangerous state, pancreatitis once again. I think would he not have lost himself so if his brain worked properly? Does he just have that addictive personality that even at 100% little things would send him over the edge? How would his life be different minus that wheelchair?
Not one family member has visited Bryan this time. I know how that sounds and I am sure how it looks. He is in there monthly. Monthly!
His body is not strong enough to do this. I fear my parents will have to bury their son. I fear I will loose him. Although I already feel we have. His sparkle is gone. His smile is faded. He isn't that jovial boy he once was.
I guess none of us are.
But he is a smart guy. He could have had so much. Yes it is a hard life. No I don't think I'd survive a day in it, but he could have done so much. He could have inspired. He could have given me more hope in raising a special child of my own. I have been angry with him for so long and it is causing indifference, which is worst of all.
Could he change? Sure I guess he could. But will he? I don’t think so.