Finality isn’t something that sticks in your head during daily life. We’re all guilty of saying things we don’t mean, making rash decisions and not always being there for friends and family.
We think we have plenty of time. We do things whenever it’s convenient. Allow me to assure you that you don’t have time and you should stop thinking that way.
Loss is a knife that slices deep. You can’t fathom it until it happens to you. When you’re young, like I was, you’re not ready for it. If it's happened to you, no matter the age, I'm very sorry that it did.
It's the natural progression of things. Eventually, you’ll probably outlive people who are older than you. However, it seems so much worse when that person still had their whole life ahead of them.
I was 15-years-old. I had no idea how to deal with what was happening in daily life already. Thanks, hormones. I certainly wasn't ready for what happened next. I never thought when I saw my brother that day it would be for the very last time.
I remember it vividly. I could tell you exactly what he was wearing, how he smelled, the uneaten food he left on my kitchen counter. He was always a picky mincer and it was chicken fingers in particular that drew his interest.
I can still hear that last phone call. He was, yet again, eating chicken fingers for lunch before making his way to a doctor’s appointment. We didn’t speak long, which wasn’t unusual. I remember waking up to a phone call at some overnight hour. The one telling my family that no one knew where my brother was.
I know exactly what I was wearing when the next call came later that afternoon. I had on weathered jeans and old sneakers with thermals underneath. An old cheap, dark green, mossy oak long sleeved shirt from the Walmart clearance rack. I was getting ready to go play paintball with my boyfriend at the time and our friends.
I was running late as was, and still is, the usual for me. I was minutes from being out the door. Then the phone rang. My brother’s dad was calling my house to tell my mom that my brother had been found.
Within three hours I made sure everything I had on was in the garbage. It’s a ritual I still do. I recommend it. You can never look at those clothes the same. Every time you think of putting one of those items on, you may as well be stabbing yourself in the heart.
It's funny the things you remember about a day that changes your life. I remember what I was wearing, not what was said or how I felt. I like to think it's the brain's way of blocking out trauma.
Every member of my family came to my house and sat in disbelief. When you lose one member, the whole group is thrown off balance. After hearing the news, all I had was a need to find my oldest brother. I couldn't process this alone. I needed physical proof that I was not the only sibling left.
Almost everyone I know who’s experienced something similar has done that. I suppose it’s only natural to want to ensure you’re not going to be hit twice in one day, so to speak. I think my family and I would react much the same now as we did then. The days following were a whirlwind that I hardly remember.
It never gets easier. I don't care what anyone says. It’s harder when something important happens in your life. You can't share it with that person anymore. You’ll miss them until a time when you’re not here to do it anymore.
Every year is difficult, but the really hard ones sneak up on you. The holidays make you miss how everything was before. The days that should be the most heart-warming will painfully point out exactly how different everything is now.
This year was the hardest that I've had in a while. I officially outlived my big brother. It’s the strangest feeling. I have now seen an age that he never did. I can go on to do things that he never will. It’s still hard to process even though I’m older.
If you’re having a hard year, please know that you’re not alone. Enjoy your holidays. That’s what your family member or friend would want you to do. When New Year comes, wipe your slate clean. Try to give yourself a 2016 that your loved one would be happy to see you living.
