Local Dispatch: Cousin's struggles with mental illness provide her clarity
When I grew up in Pittsburgh, my parents talked about my cousins who lived in New York, but I didn't know them well.
As a child, I saw them only a few times. I was told the oldest, Mark, who was 10 years older than me, "had something wrong with him," but I didn't understand much more than that. He had been institutionalized in his teen years and throughout most of his adult life.
When I was around 16, Mark escaped from a state hospital and took a bus to Pittsburgh. We got a phone call saying he was on his way. My father was asked to meet him and drive him back to New York. My dad was afraid to meet him alone in the middle of the night, so he dragged my brother along with him.
When Mark got off the bus, my dad and brother were greeted not by the monster they expected, but by a friendly young man with a huge smile. On the drive back, Mark told the corniest of jokes and the three of them laughed the entire trip.
I was afraid of Mark because I was told he had something called schizophrenia, whatever that was. But each time I saw him, he greeted me with that same glowing smile, along with all the corny jokes.
Mark loved to see our family and he always smiled, but his smile showed his rotten teeth. He walked with a limp and his hands shook. I was told all of those were side effects of his medications.
Eventually Mark moved to California with his father, but he couldn't live independently. He ended up in some type of group home. His father visited him often.
Years went by and eventually Mark's father died. Then Mark was truly alone. I had the opportunity to visit a few times, but mostly I, along with the rest of his extended family, ignored him.
Then one day I received a letter telling me Mark had died a few weeks earlier. I called Aunt Bobbi to ask what happened. It turned out he was simply eating a peanut butter sandwich with the other residents. Suddenly, he stood up and then collapsed to the floor. He choked to death.
First Published August 10, 2011 12:00 am











