Fifteen years my older brother Eric has no longer been with us. What do I say this year that I didn’t say last year or the year before that? I had said last year that some years (days, moments) seem to be harder than others. While talking to my mother last night, we had talked about today being “it” and at that time, it was completely manageable. This morning, it was the same routine- get up, get the kids to the busstop and on the bus, come home, read some e-mail while the coffee was steeping, and start the day. Read while drinking my coffee. And while I was doing that, I looked up, looked around- and today just kind of crashed down on me. This is going to be one of those harder years.
I know there is someplace else, and I know that it’s good. I had a dream shortly after he died, and in it he was explaining what his heaven was like. I absorbed that, and it became my belief. I remembered the setting of the dream, but eventually, the message just became a part of me. Awhile back, one of my best friends lost her father. We were discussing the afterlife, and I told her my view, and she reminded me of that dream- and that that was the message my brother gave me. Even now, he pops into dreams- nothing profound, just kind of day to day stuff. I believe he’s just letting me know things are okay where he is.
So I guess the hard part isn’t worrying about him- though knowing he died so young is just wrong- he was 34. Most of the hard part is just selfish- it’s my loss, my grief, my wanting my brother here. In my mind, when someone dies, a light goes out somewhere. This particular light was located right down the hall- it was the door on the right.
On the brighter side, the wonderful man who was with him at the end, Randal, has found Manda and me on Facebook. He seems happy and well- so our wishes came true there.
You know the deal by now. If you have brothers or sisters, please try to be nice to them today. And if you have to call them names or pull their hair- be just a little more gentle about it than usual.
I promise no hair pulling or name calling (at least for today). I still have very fond memories of laying on the floor in his room coloring while he was doing whatever it was that he was doing. And how when Hamilton was hit by the car, Eric slept on the floor with him since he couldn’t jump up onto the bed with him. So many memories of a life cut way too short, but well lived.
I am with you. Its been 9 years for me this December. Sometimes it feels like its been forever and sometimes it seems like just yesterday. You never get over it, just used to it.
Oh, Mindy, I’m so sorry for your loss. I don’t know if it helps to hear that your relationship with your brother — so close and loving — is a precious thing that some of us envy you for having even if it was cut brutally short, or if it is at all comforting to hear that because Eric lives on in you, he still manages to touch lives (like mine). Sending hugs.
My mother always said that every time you think of a lost loved one, or say their name, it’s a blessing to some soul who needs it. Think of all the souls your brother has blessed!
I was with one of my sisters and her family over the weekend, and I’m so glad we had so much fun. I know that one day the inevitable will occur and one of us will be first, but it will be extremely comforting to know that the memories will be happy ones.
Take care of yourself.
My heart goes out to you. I lost my brother 5 years ago to Hodkins disease. He was 38. I still grieve and still miss him terribly.
*hugs*
Mindy, so very sorry for your loss. What a beautiful person he was, and still is within your heart.