The Loss of My Brother.

Matthew Madsen Anderson.

My brother, oh, my brother. What a wonderful, fun-loving person. The MOST caring person that has ever walked into my life; and trust me, I'm not just being biased because he's my brother. Ask anyone who knew him. He had friends of all types. But, the thing was, he didn't see "types". He just saw a person as a person. He wasn't perfect, nobody is. But he was close to it. He was the type of person that wasn't embarrassed to walk with his sister down the hallway at school. He wasn't embarrassed to hug his parents or grandparents in front of an entire gym full of people after a basketball game. He was a protector. There was this time where a boy I liked chose another girl over me and the moment Matt found out from one of our mutual friends, I got a text saying "What(want) me to beat some ass" (I still have the text, I'll attach it!)

He was there. He was always there, whenever anyone needed him. I mean, he mowed our great grandma's yard for nothing because he didn't want her to have to worry. He called family members just to let them know he was thinking of them. He showed up for the people that mattered to him. He was a great big brother to our youngest brother. He was someone Nick could look up to. He was someone I could look up to. And, I hope that I was someone he could look up to. The relationship between us siblings was special. It was us against the world (and our parents 🤪 ). ALWAYS. So, naturally when we lost him, our lives were completely and utterly rocked. Matt loved deeply. Whether it was his love for the people in his life, the love for the sports he played, or his love for ice cream his love was STRONG. And it radiated. He had a way about him that made anyone who was around him, feel good. The messages I got after everyone found out just proved just how much he meant to people. He was so damn funny. He could make me laugh in the simplest ways, But, we were always laughing. I'm so glad Nick got that part of Matt, along with so many other great qualities. Both of them would do anything in their power to make sure that the people they love are okay. I admire that about them both. I hit the lottery in the brother department for sure. But, back to Matt. He was the sweetest soul. This one time, he was in the dugout at our cousin's baseball game and he got hit in the head by a kid who was practice swinging, resulting in him getting multiple stitches in the forehead. Matt's first reaction to this was to say "sorry," even though it wasn't his fault. When I asked him why HE said sorry, he said, "I just didn't want him to feel bad." He just always thought about other people and their feelings and that is such an important quality to have.

So, now that you know him a little better, we should get to it.

Let's start on February 28, 2014. The last day of February. 16 days after my brother's 15th birthday. It was an average Friday night in the Anderson house. All 3 of us had friends over. We were having them all sleep over. Nick went to bed early because he had a basketball tournament the next day. At around 11pm, Matt, our friends, and I went to McDonald's for fries and ice cream. We went inside and while we were standing in line to order, Matt strikes up a conversation with a random older man. They were laughing and talking like they've known each other for YEARS. When we got our order, we went to sit and the man sat with us. The conversation continued until the man decided it was time for him to leave. At the time, none of us knew that Matt didn't know this man. But when he told us, we weren't surprised. This was such a common thing. He was a natural people person. I will never forget the car ride home. I remember the song that playing as we pulled into our driveway. It was 'Replay' by Zendaya, all 4 of us screaming the words at the top of our lungs. We got inside, we watched a movie together for awhile before my friend and I went up to my room for bed. The next morning, March 1, 2014, my friend was leaving and Matt and his friend asked if she could give them a ride home.

I stood at the top of the stairs and said "I love you" to my brother, listening to him say it back. Not knowing that would be the last time I'd ever hear his voice, the last time I'd ever see his face. Not knowing that that song that played in the car the night before would be forever engrained into my brain as the last song that I listened to with my brother. Not knowing that my friend would be one of the last people to have seen him. Not knowing that my brother would never walk through the door again. Not knowing that I wouldn't be woken up at 5am to music being blared while he showered before his morning work out anymore. Not knowing that I would never hear his laugh again. Not knowing that I would never see my brother alive, ever again.

After he left, I took a shower, I was getting ready to take a friend out for breakfast for her birthday, who was also one of Matt's very best friends. I was jamming to my music, brushing my hair when I got a text. A text from the friend that stayed with me the night before. She asked if I had talked to Matt because there were several emergency vehicles at the house that she dropped my brother and his friend off at. I said that I hadn't, but I proceeded to call and text him. Never receiving a reply. I have never been one to assume the worst, so I came up with countless reasons of why they were there. I finished getting ready and went and picked up my friend to head to breakfast. We were driving and I got a call from my other friend saying that I should come to her house right away, that there had been an accident. So, we drove to her house. Faster than I ever thought I could in my 1997 Jeep that had always given me problems. We made it and I ran inside. My friend and her parents were waiting for me. They sat me down, and her dad told me that my brother had been shot. The news was devastating, but at the moment I still wasn't assuming the worst. Her parents drove me to the hospital where Matt had been transported. I ran inside and they brought me back into a room and I bursted through the door. My mom, my poor mom was on the ground sobbing and I remember screaming "where is he?!". My mom, the only words my mom could say were, "Katie, he's dead."

The next few hours felt like an eternity. I felt like I was outside of my body, watching myself walk the halls of the hospital. I remember my dad and Nick walking in, clueless of what had just happened. I remember my dad falling to the ground. I remember Nick turning pale. I remember my grandparents, both sides, my cousins, my aunts and uncles all walking in, the look of terror, the look of becoming physically sick at the news. The rest is sort of blur. I remember seeing friends walk the halls crying. I remember getting in a car and going to a church that was run by family friends. I remember walking in and seeing hundreds of people. I remember being confused on how everyone knew, but feeling thankful that everyone was there.

Thursday, March 6, was the visitation. We planned on having it at the local funeral home but the director advised us that the facility would probably be too small. And, boy, was he right. That day was full of things that Matt loved: family, friends, SPORTS. The family all wore Matt’s jerseys, whether it was football, basketball, or baseball. And we encouraged everyone to wear sports attire because that’s what Matt loved. We decided to hold the visitation at a church. The church was beautiful and it had a huge gymnasium connected. The gymnasium had basketball hoops, video games, and other games that everyone could play while they waited to go through the line. Over 3,500 people showed up that day. It was a beautiful service. Matt’s best friends gave the most amazing speeches that made everyone in the room laugh and cry. I gave over 3,000 hugs. I woke up the next day and my arms were sore from the hugs. My eyes, swollen from crying. My feet, sore from standing for 6 hours. Note, the visitation was only supposed to be 3 hours long, but because of ALL of the amazing people that showed, we kept going until the last person walked through. Cars were lined up a mile down the road. At the end, Matt’s friends carried his casket to the hearse and it was like a sad scene from a movie. Our family was overwhelmed with the love we felt that day.

I'd never experienced TRUE loss before. The loss of my brother, my best friend, my protector. That was my first true experience of loss, and let me tell you, it was hard. I never knew what true heartbreak felt like. I thought I did, I had stupid high school boys "break my heart," but none of that heartbreak compared to the physical pain I felt in my chest. It truly felt like my heart was breaking inside of my chest. I thought my head would forever feel like it was being jackhammered. My eyes were swollen from crying and not sleeping. My voice was almost nonexistent from screaming into my pillow at night. And it went on like that for months. I continued to try and live my life, but it was anything but easy.

Life after the loss of my brother was anything but easy. It was sleepless nights, days that seemed never-ending. It was worrying about my parents. It was seeing them hurt, knowing there was nothing I could do to make it easier for them. It was seeing them lose hope on life. It was watching them fall into different parts of depression that I had never seen before. It was worrying about Nick whenever he wasn't in my sight because if I couldn't save Matt, I sure as hell would try my hardest to protect Nick. That obsession to keep Nick safe turned very unhealthy. I was overprotective, but I didn't realize it then. I thought I was doing what I was supposed to. I saw my parents struggling so I took over the responsibilities without realizing I was doing it. I was a senior in high school, but I was cleaning, I was cooking, I was making sure Nick did his homework- while forcing myself to get mine done. I remember a time where there was an incident at school where a kid started in on Nick, saying horrible things. Nick told the kid to walk away, and the boy said something along the lines of "you'd be better of shot like your brother was," and Nick pushed the kid. A teacher saw the incident, and Nick was suspended because of the "no violence policy". I knew that if my parents heard about this, it would be horrible, so I went to the school myself and I talked to the school principal and explained why Nick had done what he did. At this point, it hadn't even been a year since our brother was shot to death. The principal was very sympathetic but because of the "no violence policy," Nick was still suspended, but only for a half day. The kid was suspended for 2 days. There were other instances where I got too involved in things that I probably should have stayed out of, but like I said, I didn't know it at the time. My parents started relying on me more, and I took it on without hesitation. I became obsessed with being the "rock" for everyone, not realizing what it was doing to me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was so worried about making sure everyone else in my life was okay, except myself. I started losing weight because I was stressed and I wasn't eating like I should. My hair started breaking off and was the shortest it's ever been (at least I was saving money on haircuts, I guess, right?). Eventually, all of the stress caught up to me and it caused several problems between my family and me. I stayed with friends as often as I could to avoid the fights, this went on for about a year and a half until I finally moved out on my own. Moving out was the BEST thing for not only myself, but for my relationship with my parents and Nick. The space was good at preventing unnecessary arguments and overprotectiveness. Of course, I still worried about Nick. But, I could worry in a healthy way. I've been on my own since I was 20, I'm now 25. My relationship with my family is great. Yes, there are still minor arguments over stupid things, but that's with any family. I still check up on Nick, but he's so good about getting back to me to ease my mind. I talk to my parents on a regular basis and I get over to their house pretty often, given our busy schedules.

Now, let's talk about Nick. Nick was the brother that for a year after he was born, that I wished was a sister. But, once I got to watch him grow, I realized that a sister would be nothing compared to this beautiful little brother that I carried around like he was my own (I was 5, by the way😅🥴). He's been making me laugh since before he could even talk. He was shy, like THE SHYEST person I've ever known when we were around anyone other than our immediate family. But when it was just us, he was a little firecracker. He always got his way because, well, he is the youngest. Matt and I always joked around and said he was the favorite kid, and we would make Nick go ask for something that we all wanted because "mom and dad liked him best". He loved this, of course, so he would do it... Every. Single. Time. Little did he know, Matt and I just didn't want to be told no. Growing up, he was always strong. He was sort of accident-prone. He once got into this 4-wheeler accident where he got a very severe concussion and he broke his hip and had to be in a wheelchair for a few months. But he OWNED that wheelchair. He made it fun. He was just an awesome kid. Nick was 13 when our brother passed away. He was in 7th grade. Imagine yourself going through middle school-it was hard, it was confusing, things were changing. But, now throw in losing your older brother on top of all of this. This kid handled the situation with such grace. He struggled heavily, but he inspired so many with his strength that just seemed to come naturally. He lived his life in the best way that he knew possible. He also learned to become an even better version of himself than he already was, and that, my friends was truly remarkable because I didn't think it was possible for him to become a better person. He, like Matt, befriended people of all kinds. It didn't matter the person's background, interests, if they were rich or poor, he doesn't care one bit. He teaches me so much everyday, whether he knows it or not. He has a kind, giving soul. My favorite thing that I've seen him do was stop the car when he was with his friends to get out and help a man walk his trash can from the street back up to the house. It's little things like this that make him such a great person, but they're so big to me. We can go awhile without talking but he will randomly let me know that he's thinking of me, I'll attach a photo that he sent me a few months ago that meant the world to me below. I just hope he knows how proud I am of him and the young man he's becoming. The world is a dark, miserable place if you let it be, and he continues to be a light in the darkness for so many people. Matt would be more than proud of him if he was here to watch him grow into this wonderful person.

There is not a day that goes by where I don't think about Matt. Sometimes it's a song that plays when I shuffle my playlist. Sometimes it's picture that is hanging in my house that I see everyday, but sometimes the sunlight hits it just right and draws my eyes to it to the point where I find myself staring at it for minutes on end. Sometimes it's the cardinal that lands on the clothesline outside of my kitchen window that stays just long enough for me to think about Matt. Sometimes it's as simple as a picture from a Facebook memory. Sometimes it's when I look at Nick and see Matt's face when he smiles. Sometimes it's when the clock says 5:10 because those were his favorite numbers. It's little things that come up in my everyday life that make me think of him. Sometimes I can think of him and smile and talk about the memories, good or bad. But, sometimes I think of him and I can't help myself but to cry. I often think about the fact that I will never be an aunt to his kids, a sister-in-law to his wife. He will never get to be the uncle he always talked about being to my kids, Nick's kids. I never got to see him get a job, drive a car, go to prom, or graduate with his class. I never got to see him decide whether or not he would choose to go to college or what he would do with his life. His death left me with so many what-ifs. What if he was still here, would I be where I am at or would I be a completely different person? Would I have chosen to go to a university rather than stayed close to home or chosen the same career path? The what-if list goes on and on.

I've learned that dwelling on the what-ifs only makes you miserable, so I finally decided to focus all of the energy that I was wasting, on something that would make me a better person, make me HAPPY. I became a person I am proud of. A person that Matt and Nick could be proud of. I can finally, finally pick out the qualities in myself that I like. That was always such a hard thing for me to do. But, in college that was a big thing in the profession that I chose. You had to identify the qualities in yourself that would make you a good therapist. But, I took that challenge to a more personal level and identified the qualities that make me a good person. I am someone that others can rely on. I always show up for the people I care about no matter how big or small the issue may be. Which leads me to an important thing that I've learned through this, no matter how "big" or "small" someones issue may seem to me, if it's big to them, I will treat it like it's the most important issue on earth. I love, and I love HARD. This is sometimes a blessing and a curse for me. I always see the good in people, even when they've given me reasons not to. I have the strangest ability to put myself into someones shoes, even if I haven't experienced their situation personally. It allows me to form deeper connections with the people who are trusting me with their struggles. I have started to see the good in every situation, no matter what. This took a lot of training, but I am finally able to do it without even thinking. The other day, I spilled my coffee all down my shirt right before work and without hesitation I said to myself, "at least I wasn't wearing a white shirt." With this, I've taken my brother's death, the hardest thing I've ever dealt with, and probably will ever deal with, and found that the positive in this horrible situation is that it made me a better person. It's little things like these that have helped me fight through my depression-(read more about my depression in my other blog post).

Basically, you can take any situation you go through and you can either let it consume you and lead you down a path that's hard to return from. Or, you can take what you went through and use it as a motivation to become the person you've always wanted to be. Someone that you're proud of, that your loved ones are proud of. It's not easy, and it won't happen over night. You'll struggle, you'll wish you chose the other path. But, once you get to the point where you're proud, you'll see why the struggle was worth it.

I think I've rambled on enough for now. But, please, always know that you are stronger than you think. You are loved more than you know. You WILL get through whatever you are struggling with. You will have bad days, but you will have so many good days too. There is always someone struggling. You never know what someone is going through, so just choose to be a kind human.

This is one of my most favorite quotes ever, it has so much wisdom and meaning to it. It's something to always remember:

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of rooms, if only one remembers to turn on the light."

-Albus Dumbledore.

**If you, or anyone you know is struggling with depression please do not hesitate to reach out for help.

Suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255

If you have any questions regarding anything that I've written about, questions about how I handled a situation, in need of advice, or just want to talk about a struggle you're dealing with, please reach out via text, dm on any social media platform, or the contact page on the homepage of my blog. I am ALWAYS here to talk with open ears and the best advice I can give.