The Full Story

The Full Story

When I was around 8yrs old, my mother married, and I acquired a new step dad and  step brother. My step brother, Stevie, was very special to me, and over the years, I would help out with him more and more. He had cerebral palsy, was in a wheelchair, couldn't really speak, and used a board to point  to communicate with others. that didn't stop us from having a close relationship though, because I understood him more than anyone, even without the board. We just had a special connection, he was smarter than most people I knew, he just couldn't express it.

Stevie's mother was around here and there throughout the years. There was a time I remember seeing her a lot, and then there were times she would get mad over something small, and she would disappear for up to a year. Either way, I was there to see the disappointment on Stevie's face when she was expected but didn't show.
Eventually, I got my license and was able to start driving him around in a wheelchair accessible van. We had so much fun visiting all the things he loved. Trolleys, school buses, just being out in general.


Shortly after I graduated in 2005, I moved down south with my boyfriend. About a year passed and I came back up to visit. I knew my step dad was sick, but I had no idea it was as bad as it was, and with my mom being the only one at home to take care of both him and Stevie, I decided to move back.
My step dad, Dan

Two days after my birthday, in 2009, we found my step dad. He had passed in the middle of the night. One of the scariest things I have ever had to deal with. 
Dan & Stevie
(He was pointing into his bedroom)
The family was really supportive and nice, and everyone was here for mom and I. But about a week after the funeral, my step dad's side of the family started accusing us of stashing secret money, was showing up at our house trying to load things up in their vehicles, and threatening to have us out on the streets.
Stevie's mom was showing up every day and making us feel very uncomfortable in our own home. She would have people over that we didn't even know, and would even eat dinner with him separately in the other room, even though he was used to eating with us, which caused him to throw fits. It was so bad that mom and I were trying to find every excuse to get out of the house every day. After a while, my mom couldn't take it anymore, and told Stevie's mom that her attitude wasn't welcome, it was our house, and that she can find other ways to visit Stevie for now.
Well she flipped out and got DHS involved and said "she had suspicions but couldn't say" so they jumped on that and started threatening us to the point that my mom couldn't handle it anymore and the next day told them she would not accept Stevie off the bus.
This decision was made AFTER he had gotten on the bus for school, so I never got to say goodbye.
Instead of moving Stevie in with her, his mother put him in a group home and fired everyone that knew my mom or me, so she could put us on a 'no visit' list. She even took our pictures off of his communication board. I can't imagine how that must feel to be pointing to something that isn't there anymore. Like we never existed. I tried to fight it, by going to DHS and pleading with them to help me. I kept trying to explain to them how Stevie must be feeling and that this wasn't right. 
No matter how hard I tried though, the bottom line is that things like that cost money, and I didn't have any, so I was simply out of luck.
2 years passed with me hearing little tid bits here and there about how my special guy was. And around January 2009, I got a random call and hang up. "Stevie's dying in the hospital." That's all it took and I was frantic.
My boyfriend, being the awesome man that he is, went up the the hospital with me, so I could try to see him. The "other" family was there, and they wouldn't even let me past the waiting room. I cried helplessly in my car before heading home. I heard he was really sick, and they were pulling the plug that night. That night was hell. 
I have a couple friends who mean so much to me. They snuck into Stevie's room while no one was there and hugged him for me, and whispered in his ear that my mom and I loved him very much and that we were so sorry that things turned out the way they did, we had no control. And my friends told me that he squeezed their hand when they told him. 
Stevie died Jan 5 2009. 

I don't know why I thought people could be mature at a funeral. I showed up quietly with a couple supportive friends, went in and sat down. The minute his mother saw me, she started making a scene and demanding that I be removed. A couple seconds later, I literally feel hands grab me and physically move me outside. I can barely remember which friends were there to support me, my head was spinning. My step brother followed and told me to leave and that I would be arrested if I didn't They also told me that the burial at the cemetery was a private event. It took me 6 months of visiting the cemetery to find out which one was Stevie's. 

This is something that I've had a hard time with ever since. After all, there is no closure. I miss Stevie and think about him every day. Something they can't take from me is all the memories and pictures I have, and I hold on to them dearly. It's all I have left.