Constable Jack King, from Coolangatta Police Station, called me on my mobile. He told me my brother Dean, had been in an accident and that he had been taken to Tweed Heads hospital. That afternoon I had been trying to contact my brother and was beginning to wonder as to his whereabouts, since I had called him but a stranger had answered his phone. Now that the police had called me I felt relieved thinking that he had been involved in a minor car accident and he was going to be okay, but the Constable continued talking. He said Dean had gone over the edge of a balcony at a shopping plaza and never regained consciousness. He had passed away two hours later from massive head injuries sustained in the fall.
Hearing those words “he passed away at 6.15pm” created a surreal moment that shattered my world. I let out a piercing involuntary scream that sent my parents running up the stairs in 2 seconds, fearing something had happened to me.
“He’s dead, Dean’s dead!” my words rung out in shock. My parents stared at me with petrified eyes as I spoke the worst news of their lives.
My mother collapsed in a heap, face down on her knees on the bedroom floor. She was pulling at her hair, crying and pleading “why” in Greek. “Yiati, yiati, Dino, Yiati.” Dad was kneeling at her side, crying uncontrollably. Like me, neither could do anything but react to the shocking news.
I could not believe what I had been told. That my brother was dead was an impossibility. It could not be true. Words can not describe the feeling of unreality I had. It seemed a preposterous idea. We all know that these types of calls happen but it’s still something that you never expect and never want to hear. You never expect a cop to call you and tell you your brother is dead. It was the biggest shock of my life and something so unpredictable, that I felt I had lost all control and I was powerless. A life promise had been broken and stripped from me. My brother was dead, and there were no grounds for negotiation about it, no going back, no second chance. It was done and it was final.
I knew that my brother had been involved in a minor car accident and left the scene. I knew this as I had called Dean’s mobile phone and it was answered by a security guard of the shopping centre where the car had crashed in the car park. What I did not know was why Dean would leave the driver’s door wide open, his mobile phone on the ground and his bag containing important personal items, like his Cassiopeia and his wallet, on the car seat? What could have happened that would cause him to just walk away leaving things like this? After speaking to the security guard I was dreadfully worried and confused. I phoned one of Dean’s friends, Romeo, and he also found the situation so strange that we felt compelled to arrange to fly to Queensland to see if we could find my brother. I didn’t know what had happened but I knew he needed help.
Soon after the police had contacted me, Romeo called back to give me our flight details. I told him what had happened and that Dean was dead. “What a waste!” he said. A response that upset me. I didn’t believe that a cool, disconnected reaction; a level headed and flatly delivered cliché, was the right reaction for this dire situation and their 20 year long friendship. I put my thoughts aside knowing it wasn’t how he really felt. We all react differently and just like me he would not have been prepared for this news. I had to focus on what needed to be done.
I needed to get to the airport and I knew in my emotional state I could not drive, so I called my cousin William who lived nearby. I told him what happened to Dean, and that I needed a ride to the airport. I told him I needed to go right now and I asked him to tell his father and our grandmother what happened and to tell them to come to my parents’ house, as my parents would need them.
I was all nerves, my stomach and body were feeling incredibly tense. I went to the bar in the billiard room, opened a bottle of whiskey and drank more than a mouthful. The whiskey burned from my throat to my base which brought me back into my body and made me intensely aware of my insides. It also helped numb me a bit to my feelings. My parents and I knew I had to go identify Dean and find out exactly what happened to my brother. We also knew mum and dad would have to stay home. Despite the shock of what had occurred, we knew what we had to do. I started getting ready for the trip. I wrapped a cotton scarf around my neck, then I put a jumper and toothbrush in my handbag. I didn’t care to take anything else. I couldn’t see any further into the future. We were going through the motions, there was no feeling of frenetic activity or rush, we were doing what we knew needed to be done.
Ten minutes passed, taking forever as my mind could not move itself from Dean and wondering what had happened to lead to this. William hadn’t turned up so I called him to find out where he was. He said he had to sit down and have a beer, and that he couldn’t believe what had happened. He was in shock. I understood his need to get his head around the news, but I was going to miss my flight if he didn’t get here right away, so I spurred him into action.
When William arrived I took a bottle of beer from the bar fridge and got in his car. I talked about Dean and repeatedly burst into tears all the way to Sydney airport. For some reason I could not stop talking, the situation had turned me into a motor-mouth. When I got there Romeo was already waiting out the front of the domestic terminal. We hugged and cried. I don’t know how long we were there or what all the other people who were bustling past may have thought, but we were in a world of our own.
Boarding the plane, I burst into tears as I walked to my seat. The flight attendant asked me what was wrong. I told him my brother was dead and we were on our way to identify his body in the hospital. He was compassionate and kind, helping us get settled. He offered us complimentary drinks. I didn’t want to drink too much but I wanted something to calm my nerves. I knocked back two bourbons with coke, which helped me get through the flight.
By the time we arrived in Brisbane, organised a hire car and drove to Tweed Heads Hospital to meet the police, it was after midnight. The nurses were kind to us, they must have seen this situation many times before. We sat in an empty hospital waiting room and filled in forms in the large, quiet, sterile room.
It did not seem long before the police arrived and took us through the hospital corridors towards the mortuary. We walked together, without speaking, as they lead us along. I knew where we were going and while I needed to see Dean, part of me also did not really want to reach our destination. Seemingly suddenly we stopped walking and turned to the left. In the wall of the corridor was a large glass window. Immediately in front of the window, I looked down and saw my brother lying on a metal table. He was covered with a green sheet up to his neck. I identified his body through the window for the police officers. Even with this confirmation I was still finding it hard to believe what I was seeing in front of me.
My mind was still reeling from the shock and what it meant. I don’t think my mind was willing to trust even my eyes. Was there even the remotest chance he was not really dead? Surely this could not be true? I wanted to enter the mortuary but the police and hospital staff were hesitant, trying to dissuade me but I was adamant that I was going in to see my brother and touch him, reluctantly they acquiesced.
Going into that room made it more real and yet I could still hardly believe what I was seeing. My brother dead. Laid out on a silver metal table. Lying naked beneath a green sheet, in a hospital morgue. His eyes were bruised black, like raccoons and he had tiny bits of blood on his face. His head was heavily bandaged up. Looking at him, his face seemed swollen. His hands had been rested on his abdomen and I reached out to hold his right hand which was closest to me. I needed to make contact, whether it was to comfort me or Dean, I do not know, but I needed that physical contact.
That contact with my brother triggered a reaction in me that I couldn’t control. I began to wail, loudly and unselfconsciously, driven by my state of shock and horror at seeing my brother this way. It was a basic and instinctive reaction that I had been bottling up, but which could no longer be contained. I was inconsolable. Everyone and everything else disappeared. I put my hands on his still body and pressed my head on his chest. I held his body and I wept. I began touching him and wishing he wasn’t dead, wanting to bring him back to life, wanting to make him wake up. Romeo put his arm around me and I became aware of him standing next to me. He looked dreadfully sad seeing his dear friend like this. His eyes showed that he shared my pain and understood my weeping. He gave me time to lament and to be with Dean, then sadly but kindly, he walked me away from that room.
Hearing those words “he passed away at 6.15pm” created a surreal moment that shattered my world. I let out a piercing involuntary scream that sent my parents running up the stairs in 2 seconds, fearing something had happened to me.
“He’s dead, Dean’s dead!” my words rung out in shock. My parents stared at me with petrified eyes as I spoke the worst news of their lives.
My mother collapsed in a heap, face down on her knees on the bedroom floor. She was pulling at her hair, crying and pleading “why” in Greek. “Yiati, yiati, Dino, Yiati.” Dad was kneeling at her side, crying uncontrollably. Like me, neither could do anything but react to the shocking news.
I could not believe what I had been told. That my brother was dead was an impossibility. It could not be true. Words can not describe the feeling of unreality I had. It seemed a preposterous idea. We all know that these types of calls happen but it’s still something that you never expect and never want to hear. You never expect a cop to call you and tell you your brother is dead. It was the biggest shock of my life and something so unpredictable, that I felt I had lost all control and I was powerless. A life promise had been broken and stripped from me. My brother was dead, and there were no grounds for negotiation about it, no going back, no second chance. It was done and it was final.
I knew that my brother had been involved in a minor car accident and left the scene. I knew this as I had called Dean’s mobile phone and it was answered by a security guard of the shopping centre where the car had crashed in the car park. What I did not know was why Dean would leave the driver’s door wide open, his mobile phone on the ground and his bag containing important personal items, like his Cassiopeia and his wallet, on the car seat? What could have happened that would cause him to just walk away leaving things like this? After speaking to the security guard I was dreadfully worried and confused. I phoned one of Dean’s friends, Romeo, and he also found the situation so strange that we felt compelled to arrange to fly to Queensland to see if we could find my brother. I didn’t know what had happened but I knew he needed help.
Soon after the police had contacted me, Romeo called back to give me our flight details. I told him what had happened and that Dean was dead. “What a waste!” he said. A response that upset me. I didn’t believe that a cool, disconnected reaction; a level headed and flatly delivered cliché, was the right reaction for this dire situation and their 20 year long friendship. I put my thoughts aside knowing it wasn’t how he really felt. We all react differently and just like me he would not have been prepared for this news. I had to focus on what needed to be done.
I needed to get to the airport and I knew in my emotional state I could not drive, so I called my cousin William who lived nearby. I told him what happened to Dean, and that I needed a ride to the airport. I told him I needed to go right now and I asked him to tell his father and our grandmother what happened and to tell them to come to my parents’ house, as my parents would need them.
I was all nerves, my stomach and body were feeling incredibly tense. I went to the bar in the billiard room, opened a bottle of whiskey and drank more than a mouthful. The whiskey burned from my throat to my base which brought me back into my body and made me intensely aware of my insides. It also helped numb me a bit to my feelings. My parents and I knew I had to go identify Dean and find out exactly what happened to my brother. We also knew mum and dad would have to stay home. Despite the shock of what had occurred, we knew what we had to do. I started getting ready for the trip. I wrapped a cotton scarf around my neck, then I put a jumper and toothbrush in my handbag. I didn’t care to take anything else. I couldn’t see any further into the future. We were going through the motions, there was no feeling of frenetic activity or rush, we were doing what we knew needed to be done.
Ten minutes passed, taking forever as my mind could not move itself from Dean and wondering what had happened to lead to this. William hadn’t turned up so I called him to find out where he was. He said he had to sit down and have a beer, and that he couldn’t believe what had happened. He was in shock. I understood his need to get his head around the news, but I was going to miss my flight if he didn’t get here right away, so I spurred him into action.
When William arrived I took a bottle of beer from the bar fridge and got in his car. I talked about Dean and repeatedly burst into tears all the way to Sydney airport. For some reason I could not stop talking, the situation had turned me into a motor-mouth. When I got there Romeo was already waiting out the front of the domestic terminal. We hugged and cried. I don’t know how long we were there or what all the other people who were bustling past may have thought, but we were in a world of our own.
Boarding the plane, I burst into tears as I walked to my seat. The flight attendant asked me what was wrong. I told him my brother was dead and we were on our way to identify his body in the hospital. He was compassionate and kind, helping us get settled. He offered us complimentary drinks. I didn’t want to drink too much but I wanted something to calm my nerves. I knocked back two bourbons with coke, which helped me get through the flight.
By the time we arrived in Brisbane, organised a hire car and drove to Tweed Heads Hospital to meet the police, it was after midnight. The nurses were kind to us, they must have seen this situation many times before. We sat in an empty hospital waiting room and filled in forms in the large, quiet, sterile room.
It did not seem long before the police arrived and took us through the hospital corridors towards the mortuary. We walked together, without speaking, as they lead us along. I knew where we were going and while I needed to see Dean, part of me also did not really want to reach our destination. Seemingly suddenly we stopped walking and turned to the left. In the wall of the corridor was a large glass window. Immediately in front of the window, I looked down and saw my brother lying on a metal table. He was covered with a green sheet up to his neck. I identified his body through the window for the police officers. Even with this confirmation I was still finding it hard to believe what I was seeing in front of me.
My mind was still reeling from the shock and what it meant. I don’t think my mind was willing to trust even my eyes. Was there even the remotest chance he was not really dead? Surely this could not be true? I wanted to enter the mortuary but the police and hospital staff were hesitant, trying to dissuade me but I was adamant that I was going in to see my brother and touch him, reluctantly they acquiesced.
Going into that room made it more real and yet I could still hardly believe what I was seeing. My brother dead. Laid out on a silver metal table. Lying naked beneath a green sheet, in a hospital morgue. His eyes were bruised black, like raccoons and he had tiny bits of blood on his face. His head was heavily bandaged up. Looking at him, his face seemed swollen. His hands had been rested on his abdomen and I reached out to hold his right hand which was closest to me. I needed to make contact, whether it was to comfort me or Dean, I do not know, but I needed that physical contact.
That contact with my brother triggered a reaction in me that I couldn’t control. I began to wail, loudly and unselfconsciously, driven by my state of shock and horror at seeing my brother this way. It was a basic and instinctive reaction that I had been bottling up, but which could no longer be contained. I was inconsolable. Everyone and everything else disappeared. I put my hands on his still body and pressed my head on his chest. I held his body and I wept. I began touching him and wishing he wasn’t dead, wanting to bring him back to life, wanting to make him wake up. Romeo put his arm around me and I became aware of him standing next to me. He looked dreadfully sad seeing his dear friend like this. His eyes showed that he shared my pain and understood my weeping. He gave me time to lament and to be with Dean, then sadly but kindly, he walked me away from that room.