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The greatest fear for a parent with a special needs child is one day leaving that child to fend for him or herself. Here’s a touching, and frank, story about one sibling left to care for her brother.

My Brother’s Keeper (Assembly Required)

TEN years ago my mother died in my arms, propped up on plush, monogrammed Laura Ashley pillows with Frank Sinatra singing “My Way” through Sony Walkman earphones strapped to her head. The Walkman didn’t fit the décor, and neither did I. My mother and I were not close, and it was somewhat ironic that, of her four children, I would be the one rubbing her spongy forearms and kneading her ice-cold feet as she prepared to lay her burden down.

She would leave me a house full of furniture, some family jewelry and — whether I liked it, wanted it, understood it or was prepared for it — John, my 42-year-old mentally challenged brother. Because that’s what happens. People die. Their burdens don’t.

For the rest of the story, visit: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/fashion/22Love.html

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