Hi Sweetness,
It’s been so long since I’ve written. And but a moment since I’ve thought of you. These last months have been a whirlwind. That white space I am so desperate to add to my calendar seems more elusive, the stronger my heart longs for it. Each amazing and terrible thing seems to tip my world in one direction and then another.
One of the tips was a screeching halt. I answered the phone one morning, 2 days after Christmas. It was your A Colleen. My favorite friend. And she was crying and chattering, her voice rising and falling with emotion. ...I didn’t believe him...I made him give me the officer’s name...I called him and he told me it wasn’t a joke...and BRIAN DIED... it can’t be true, it can’t be true. I think it’s probably true.
And it is true.
I’m sure you knew it long before she did. I’m sure you and Pops greeted him with the Mines fight, okay drinking, song. But not until Marno got her hugs in. We all know he was her favorite. At least that’s what he told us.
Jen, it was so sudden, so devastating. One moment, he was on his spin bike at the gym, warming up for his class, the same class he’d done a couple of times a week for 8 years, and the next moment he was gone. I remember, a few weeks before you died, you asked me a question. Would it be easier to have the death of a loved one be sudden, rather than endure the diminishing of a loved one toward death. One allowing some measure of mental and emotional preparation, with its accompanied pre-mourning. The other a blissful approach of ignorance with quick and sure strokes of loss. At the time, I now know, it was a disguised attempt to apologize to me for the hurt I endured while watching you push through treatment, only to succumb to the beast anyway. As if that would ever be necessary. I answered you with a truthful I. Don’t. Know. I still don’t. Any loss, sudden or extended, expected or surprise is exactly that-Loss. Colleen and I confirmed in one of our conversations the absolute and terrible reality that while very little in this life is final, most things can be amended, changed or modified, death is the ultimate no do-over.
So now I mourn again, or rather more, as again implies previous completion of the first round. I mourn the loss of my sweet, sassy, generous, kind, honest, loyal, smart, funny, musical, endearing, bossy little brother. I’ve never remembered a time in my life when he wasn’t in it. I have no memories of before Brian, but I will now have memories of after Brian. He was that sweet little boy I read to, sitting on the side of the tub, while he was on the potty doing his business. He was that little brother I could convince to do the dishes, because I helped him set the table. He was that little brother, who made me so proud his senior year, after he was cut from the basketball team, he went to every game and cheered the team, and helped the rest of the crowd cheer the team. The best cheerleader ever. He was that little brother, who, every time, gave me the incredulous, “what am I, chopped liver?” look when I went to their house and bee-lined for his wife, my bestie, sometimes walking right past him! Including the last time I saw him, the afternoon of Christmas Day. Mostly, though, I mourn Colleen's loss. Grief is so multi-layered. I have my own, personal, grief, but I have a connected grief. Grief for all my people who have their own personal grief. Layers upon layers upon layers.
Fast forward 5 month. How has it been 5 months? The little girls have a way of circling back to the reality of loss. Don't you remember when B did...? As if any of us could ever forget. As if any of us somehow should remember everything! We had a family wedding last weekend. The first family wedding "after Brian". He had a way of celebrating life that was so contagious. He would figure out a family love song to blanket the newlyweds with at the reception, after the wedding. Dawn figured out the perfect song to shower this couple with. 500 miles. An Irish love song. A Brian song. It was perfect. And heart wrenching.
Honey, I can't help but think of you as I face the next few weeks/months, IDK. I went into surgery to have a toe fixed and somehow have found myself facing treatment for breast cancer. I'm claustrophobic with the restrictions of life on a knee scooter. It's been 4 weeks and will be another 3, until I should have clearance to walk in the boot. I am as independent as it gets, where do you think you got it? Not only from your Dad! I'm struggling to get my planters planted. I can't easily get back to see my iris blooming and I really need a massage!! Just in time to go back into surgery to cut out the beast. I think about your bravery, your vulnerability, your single minded vision of the end prize. I also think of your fear, your sadness, the reality of your heart, mind and life growing smaller before my eyes. How has it been 5 1/2 years since I held you?
But Sweet Girl, life keeps moving. We talked about the disconnect when big things are swirling around us, but the world keeps turning anyway. The sun rises and set. The moon passes through all it's phases. One season ends and the next one begins. Nothing skips a beat to match the skipped beats our hearts feel. So I move forward, too. I work, I connect, I think and try to pray. You know that's a tricky one. Somehow, I know He still gets it, but it would be nice to be able to pray without feeling a fraud. So I stick to what I know, Thankfulness.
I am thankful for seasons changing. For fragrant breezes, greens of every hue, birds nesting in Marno's birdhouse. I'm thankful for the warm of the sunrise, and the cool of the moonlight. I'm thankful for the flowers and sunset shades in the clouds. I'm thankful for prayer warriors who pray when I can't, who believe and cling and hold to truth. I'm thankful for tearful hugs and laughter over nonsense. I'm thankful for babies, newly born and those not yet born, and the sharing I get to experience as I watch in expectation. I'm thankful for puppies, yours and mine, who don't eat right, because I'm not home and who insist on the next treat, before the last is barely swallowed. I'm thankful for my people to share life with. Wonderful life: joy, milestones, celebration, growth. Mournful life: tears, longing, sadness, purple jobs. I'm thankful for life, struggles and triumph alike, for how would I recognize triumph without experiencing the struggle?
I love you, my sweet girl. Thank you for listening.
