Stop The Violence - A Story from Both Sides

The last time I saw my brother for over 19 years was the day that my mother was taking my brother Mikey and I to my uncles to spend a weekend on the houseboat. Our oldest brother called and said that there was something wrong with his wife's baby. She ended up going over there with us since it was on the way to my uncle's. As soon as we entered the house and my mother took a look at the baby, she freaked out and immediately told my older brother to call 911. She quickly picked up the baby and rushed over to the couch and started preforming CPR. When she ran past me to the couch, I caught a glimpse of the baby, and it will forever be etched into my mind. She was covered in sweat and puke, and her eyes were rolled back into the back of her head. My mother did CPR until the ambulance showed up, from there they took the baby to the back of the ambulance and were in there forever, it seemed but was closer to maybe 20-25 minutes. Then a life flight helicopter landed, and they took the baby to the hospital in the helicopter. The whole time my brother Mikey and I just sat on the steps watching in horror and just trying to stay out of everyone's way. Once the helicopter left my mother took us to my uncles. We tried to forget about it but once we came back from the weekend on the houseboat, we came home to find out that my oldest brother had been arrested for the death of the 10-month-old baby of his wife. I was 15. My oldest brother at that time was my best friend other than my father. I'd babysit every chance I got and just loved hanging out with him and listening to music and driving around. I took it hard. 

2 very short weeks later, I was at my father's house when my mother called to tell us that my cousin Kehndra had been shot in the chest and had passed away instantly. From what I was told, she had been at a party, and some men had shown up that were not invited and were immediately asked to leave. While they were walking out of the house, one of the men turned around and started randomly firing into the crowd of people outside of the house. My cousin was the only one to take a bullet to the chest and passed away straight into the arms of my other cousin who was at the time my age, 15. 

I feel like both of these have impacted my life hugely and immensely. My oldest brother did go to prison and was there for over 19 years, finally being release in November of 2020. A lot of people in my life have judged not only me but my other brothers and my parents for his actions. They always try to us it against us or throw it in our faces. How can others do that, judge someone on someone else's actions? I understand that he is my brother, but his actions had nothing to do with what I do or did in my life. I was only 15 at the time. People threw it in my mother's face, how she could love her son after what he did? As a mother myself, I'd do anything to be there for my children even if Heaven forbids, they committed something like their uncle. I wouldn't be happy with what they did but how can I just write my children off completely? Another person should not and cannot be held accountable for another's action, unless they specifically where there OR had a part in it!!! It sucked growing up like I was a criminal for someone else's actions. 

My cousin Kehndra was the light in everyone's life and she was always so kind and patient and loving and once she was gone, I sort of have nothing to do with my cousins, more on their end because I've reached out and they treat me like I'm a stranger or I'm wrong for wanting to be a part of their lives.  Kehndra would have made time and not made anyone feel left out or like they don't matter. She was the glue, the one who kept us together, the one who didn't judge, the one who brought happiness and laughter and light into everyone that she touched. Without her, what cousins do I have or talk to on my mother' side of the family? No one. 

FYI- I took the name of this Blog from a program that my own mother Rebecca Ibarra and my uncle Kenneth Isakson started, where they'd go from school to school telling our stories from the side of the victim and the side of the family of the perpetrator.