A Tribute To My Brother
By Melissa on 05 November 2009
8 years ago ...around this time..on my Mother's birthday, My brother's life was stolen. That's the only way I can put it. Not too long ago I came across his death certificate , as if I can't believe my pain is numb, sometimes I go through his stuff and wander off to a million 'what could have been's'. There's no mention of 'Murder' on the certificate of course but all medical terms I can't understand , The mere truth is that out of the blue some wretched person could decide to play God and take life and death into his own hands. 27 years young.
However, I don't want to dwell on the pain and anger, I want to celebrate the life and times of my Brother Stephen Portelli.
Steve, or Xkeyfa as his close friends knew him, was the most laid back and happy go lucky person I've ever met. He just took the ups and downs of life as they were thrown at him and loved every single second of his life. He had a kick ass Ford Capri that he was so proud of..the ceiling of his car inside was covered in bats ...we still have his car... makes me smile when I see it.
He loved teasing me, we wrestled and I don't know why on earth I took him up on a fight every time - him being a very fit person and almost 6 feet... of course I'd always surrender. Jeez I still miss those moments.
When I was around 5 and we used to go to school together in Toronto, he used to pick me up from my class room so that we could walk home together, he walked way too fast for me. I was his little sister - the big pain in the butt . Sometimes we'd stop at the candy corner store and buy liquorish and of course fight over who gets the most. Once I waited a while after school - I was the only one left waiting on my bench - I think I waited for an hour - my brother came storming in because he'd got detention. So then I had to walk super fast to get home so he could have enough time to play his video games. I was still a pain in his butt when I got older - I wanted to hang out with all his friends - I wanted to wear his Iron Maiden t - shirts and play his Van Halen records. I then continued to be a pain in his butt when he moved to NY - he'd hear of my boyfriends and my drunken outings - boy that used to really tick him off. But I miss feeling his security, knowing that no one could hurt me around him. Sometimes I wish I could have been there for him - on the night he was injured - to take care of him.
The thing I remember the most about Xkeyfa is that he was the most athletic and determined person and one hell of a hockey player. When it came down to hockey - he was one of the best. No doubt about it . I'm not just saying that because he's my brother , the passion and skill he had for the sport was incredible. He was fast, he trained hard and he had been playing since he was 3 years old. Hockey is a tough sport , my father always said that when Stephen was little he would have a chocolate before he goes into the rink and he would tear the place apart - being the little hyper active kid that he was. The passion for the sport never died.. Till the weeks before his death he was still playing in hockey with a team in New York city..his room is still full of trophies he achieved throughout the years, medals , photos and gear.
My brother died on the 9th November 2001, my whole family was in total shock, we had thought that he would recover from his injuries and that he would be with us again. For Christ's sake I was so convinced he would make it I was already thinking of throwing him a birthday party when we'd bring him home from the hospital. As kids my Mom used to have our birthday parties together - as they are only a couple of days apart. We'd argue on who had the most presents - all I know is that these are the things I cherish the most. He never made it to his birthday which was only three weeks after his death. So as much as November brings all these sad days along - I look upon these little moments that mean so much.
My sister and I happened to stay late at the hospital on the evening of the 9th November , my whole family had spent endless hours with him unconscious. But I remember when he woke up from his coma (but still heavily sedated) - he squeezed my hand once when I spoke to him - I told him that we were going to take him home when he got better. I could even see him shed a tear. And I never saw my brother cry. Apart from once, a few years back, 1998, a dear friend of his passed away, her name was Edna and she was 18. I didn't know Edna as well as my brother did, but he spoke of her like she meant the world to him. Til this day, when I visit my brother's grave, I always put a flower on Edna's - as I know that's what he would of done.
We buried Stephen in his Toronto Maple Leafs Hockey shirt - his funeral was packed with people and someone even had a flower arrangement in the form of a hockey stick. That made me smile. His hockey team in NYC sent a note saying that they will have his number 68 printed - on the side of each of their shirt..in his memory. He would have been proud.
Just thinking about his last moments makes me want to fall apart all over again, but I won't let myself . I am a soldier , for my family , for my daughter, for my music. My music is my salvation. No-one knows how it has changed my life, or how it has cleared my mind from negativity. My brother was the one that got me into Nirvana , Dire Straits, Metallica and all those other bands when I was just about 11 years old. Many years later - I found myself writing my own music - in my own ways and I found many friends throughout my journey.
I'll be 27 years old this year, the same age as my Brother when he died - we all complain about getting old, but I wish my brother could have had the chance to grow older with us ..to have children , to meet my daughter. My brother lived a very short life - For me he was a hero, just because he could smile in the darkest of days , be pleased with whatever life threw at him and live without fear and without a shadow of doubt that all he did was worthwhile just because he did it out of determination , strength and no regrets.
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