And Then There Was One

Clockwise, top left: Rex, Matthew, Emelia, Me

 

 

 

 

 

First was Rex, he died from a brain tumor at age 33. 
Next was Emelia, she died from despair at age 48. 
Now it is Matthew's turn. He died yesterday from injuries after a fall. Matthew was 61. 

I am the last of the original 4 adopted kids in the Harley Spencer family. 
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A few nights ago I woke up at 3am, thinking about my oldest adoptive brother, Matthew. I wondered how he was doing, its been decades since I've seen or heard from him. 

Last I knew Matthew still lived in Utah, near our deceased sister Emelia's family. I hoped that was still true. I considered messaging one of Emelia's adult daughters to ask about Matthew, and decided not to. My life plate is (still/always) very full and I decided I didn't need to add to my chaos. I just wanted to know Matthew was cared for. I said a silent prayer for my brother and went back to sleep. 

The thing about my 3 siblings is that I couldn't save any of them. I couldn't as a child, I couldn't as an adult. Matthew was diagnosed with autism back in the years when that was not common. He received no formal help in school and no specific attention was given to him at home. Our parents liked Matthew because he NEVER disobeyed them. He showed no emotion, just silently did his chores to adult standards and outworked all of the rest of us kids combined. He was Cinderella with no Disney animals to keep him company. 

I joked he was a robot who did elaborate hyper-realistic sport car carvings from school rubber erasers. Matthew participated in our neighborhood kid adventures because he was the biggest and strongest, willing to haul junk wood, chop tunnels in wild blackberries, and dig holes. Even in fun, we put him to work. 

When I moved out on my 18th birthday, I don't recall saying goodbye to him. Rob says he remembers meeting him once or twice, maybe in the months before our wedding. Never had a real conversation with him. After we got married, we immediately moved away and that was it. 

Over the years Emelia kept me updated on Matthew, the jobs he had, the times he showed up and slept on her couch. I was so glad Matthew had Emelia, like I took care of Rex. Each of us girls had a brother to watch out for, just like when we were children responsible for our two younger nieces. 

I couldn't fix anything for anyone, but I desperately wanted each of us to be ok, whatever that meant. I am sad I am the last of us. I've decided wherever they are, my siblings are eternally ok.