Heavy.

Your urn was as heavy as your chest felt when I placed my hand on your corpse lying in the casket. It was such a clear feeling I couldn’t forget. Tears were unstoppable. It was the first time I’d been with your entirety since. My heart twisted, and churned. It was like you were there, but in this bronze and gold, metal urn. I held you in my arms, cradled you, as if I were holding a newborn. Emotions of anger, sadness, and missing you swept over me.

The idea of keeping your urn in a home never appealed to me. Even when I’d had just a little of your ashes that I spread at Deception pass, it seemed so strange to keep those at home. But when I held your urn, it was different. I had felt a peacefulness in having you there. Somehow, it was the most bittersweet feeling; conflicting.

I made attempts to go through some of your things in the garage, just to feel surrounded by you. It was defeating, to say the least, but I found many childhood photos. I didn’t realize it, but I think you were my best friend growing up. Every photo, you were always by my side. Even when the photo was clearly meant to be me and someone else, you were there sneaking into the frame. When I was teenager, we fought constantly. I disliked you so much for all the trouble you’d get into. And then as adults, we’d barely begun. We grew up and I didn’t get enough life with you…

It’s only now, that I’m aware of how misunderstood you were. One of your dear friends once told me these exact words “He was misunderstood, but I understood him. And I will help you understand him too.” That weighs heavy on me. And maybe that’s why I so distinctively remember the heaviness.

I still bargain every now and again. Ten years of my life, for one more of yours. Any of my five senses for just another day with you, hell, take all my senses. A limb, for five minutes. Whatever variation is enough to give me a minute of your time. One hug. One time to say “I love you, thank you for being the best brother and unknowingly my best friend.”

While I’ve healed in some ways, and have found positivity where I can. I’ve lost myself in others. I’m fighting to find balance. Some look up and ask their deity for “strength.” While I still question my beliefs, I look up and ask you for strength, because I believe in YOU. That I have had no doubts in.

With strength,
c.

Two years later.

One year ago, I posted a blog about my first year being out of a long term relationship of almost 10 years. I’d explained the top three things I’d learned in 2015, and I thought I’d take this moment to do the same, except the top three things I’ve learned in addition this year.

First of all, the last three things from last year are still truer than ever. Love yourself, f*cking live, and accept the things you cannot control. The lessons I learn each year are to continue learning from and building from. They’re reminders. I can say I didn’t follow those as much as I’d hoped this year. I didn’t love myself enough, I didn’t live as fulfilled as I should have, and I sure as hell didn’t want to accept the things out of my control.

When my 10 year relationship ended, I have to admit I believed it was the worst thing. At the time, it was. It was the hardest thing I’d ever have to accept, admit, and follow through with. Like a lot of long-term relationships, I had my entire future planned out ahead of me with this person, and I’d never seen it any other way. It was scary as hell to leave the most comfortable and familiar thing in my life. It was scary to let go of something I LOVED. Fear and stepping out of comfort zones gets the best of us. Little did I know, this year, I’d face the absolute worst thing in my entire world. I’d face the most heart wrenching experience I’d ever have to go through.

I’d never known pain, fear, discomfort, sadness, heartache, loneliness until my brother passed away… actually passed away. It still stings saying that because it’s hard to believe on some days. I’ve grown bitter toward those whose “hardest thing” they’ve ever had to go through is less than a death, and it’s because I’m irrational most of the time, so forgive me. Grief is real, and anger is real. I can acknowledge others around me going through what they think is a tough time, but in my eyes, nothing can even compare to death, as prepared as you think you might be, this is the worst thing.

Somehow, the worst time in my life has cleared my head to see parts of myself I used to be, and parts of myself that I want to be again. It’s reminded me of how beautiful life really can be despite the death that is a part of it. Every single one of us struggles. But instead of sulking in “the worst thing in our lives”, can you take a minute to seriously look at what’s around you and what you have?

I promised you my top three lessons of 2016:

1. Practice patience. You know we spend so much time getting frustrated about the things you can’t change. Like the massive line at the Walgreens, and you’re on the verge of missing your bus, so you’re angry at the cashiers. Do you need to be? Miss your bus, there will be another one. That person you work with who you think sent you a rude email… probably not. Stuck in traffic, and screaming at other cars or honking your horn, oh totally because that’s getting you to your destination faster. Be patient with strangers and every person you encounter. You don’t know their life, and they don’t know yours. You’d be surprised, patience can go a long way.
2. Be kind, and truly, whole-heartedly kind. I’ve wondered sometimes if being too nice is worth it. You know how good guys claim that the good guys never win? Well I think that’s false. Being kind to others isn’t meant to get anything in return, it’s about doing something good because it makes you feel good. What do you want to remember in 20 years, that you were a f*cking d*ckhead to the guy on the bus, over what? Or that you stood up to let someone elderly sit down, or that you shared baked goods with a stranger, or bought a homeless person a hot sandwhich on a cold day? Do random acts of goodness.
3. Find the positives. Life man… it sucks total a*s sometimes. People can be ripped away from you suddenly and you’re left trying to figure out how to put the pieces together, but seriously. I can bet you’ve got a lot going for you. There’s a positive in every single day, you can find it. Whether it’s the latte you had, the orchids someone bought for you, the best friend in your life, a job, family. Those are all the positives you have to appreciate. Have your bad days, that’s okay. But I challenge you, find a positive in every single day of your life. Especially on the bad days, find the positives. They’ll make you smile, and it’ll make your heart happy.

Obviously, never stop loving and telling others you love them. Your brother might annoy you for no reason at all, but don’t forget to hug him and tell him you love him until the next time that you see him… you’ll wish you had.

Learning to love,
c.

Apologies.

The last four months of our lives have been unfair. We’ve experienced what dramatically feels like the absolute, most horrendous and unrealistic feeling in the entire universe. It may as well be equivalent to death. Families and friends have had their worlds attacked suddenly. Like we went to war with ourselves and inevitably lost. Individuals we loved so dearly were ripped from our hearts and our arms. They were stolen…

No one in their sanity would have willingly given them up. And yet the lives given and lived were so quickly lost to a simple unknown. Not knowing how much is too much. Not knowing what our body is actually consuming or intaking. Not knowing our right mind from the wrong one, and allowing temptation and addiction to overpower us. Not knowing the next hour our heart would flatline silently, and our brains departed from destination. Not knowing tomorrow, in reality would not arrive. Not knowing all of what would be our ‘lasts.’ The memorable unknown true impact they’d leave on us. 

For every person who doesn’t understand. For all the trigger words and language you all use. For the bastards who sell and distribute. For the jokes and the giant social gatherings that cause me undoubted anxiety before it even begins. For the damn sleep medicine I’ve learned to rely on. For being told what I need or what I should do. For attempting to let my guard down and ask for what I need. For being told how to act or treat others. For being a f*cking sponge! For ‘mothering’ and putting all my problems aside for everyone else. For doing what I think I need. For the “pretend” happiness and appearance of doing well. For all of the common “I’m sorry for your loss.” and the “Everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time.” And for the “They live on in your heart and memories.” For every frustrating, wise and cliche word muttered from your mouths. Thank you, truly, for now and in the future.

Because it is all of these little things that have made me realize I don’t have to be sorry for my behavior. I don’t have to be sorry for my decisions made irrationally, because irrational has boarded up, locked, and welded the door shut from rational ever making an appearance.

Sadly,
c.

Thankful.

It was the first Thanksgiving I’d ever spent on my own. The alone part isn’t what was phasing or a surprise. I’ve spent Holidays by myself before and I’m generally okay with doing things by myself and being alone. It was more that he wasn’t around this year… that was the tough part. Honestly, as the week before Thanksgiving approached, I felt myself in a downward. I was rather dreading the holiday coming up. The days before were even more difficult. I’ve been mentally drained. In a way I felt like I was doing alright, and getting a handle on things before I left the city for a week. And when I came back, somehow I had to relive it, or redo everything all over again. I couldn’t run away from my problems or facing the reality of my life. It’s like I had barely begun my grieving. There’s no good time for a person to grieve, but with the holiday’s around the corner, I can say it doesn’t make it easier.

The last time mom was visiting Seattle, Sunnie was so set on taking a trip to Deception pass. Sunnie knew beauty, and he felt happy and at peace in beautiful places, the beach/the water was one of them. I admit, I wish I had just agreed to go, now I wish I would have went with him to Deception. So on Thanksgiving, I took a tiny bit of his ashes I had and drove up there. It was pouring rain, and there were 4 accidents on my way. I kept wondering “Is this a sign that I shouldn’t be going up there?” With a gut feeling saying maybe it wasn’t a good idea. We talked in the car. I said “If this is your way of telling me not to go… well I’m going.” Because this was a coincidence in my eyes. There’s all this buzz about signs, spirits, and energy and I have to be real, I want to believe in that, but I don’t think, or know if I do. I chatted with you in the car, asking if you were around. Asking if you believed in it too. Telling you how I wanted to be thankful, but I was struggling to find thanks, because you weren’t here with me.

But I am thankful for having had you in my life and as my brother. I am thankful for my incredible friends, who I call family. The ones I consider my sisters, and brothers. The lovely ladies who approached me at your viewing and I instantly latched onto, you gave me new sisters. For my parents, who gave me everything. I am thankful for this unpredictably  beautiful, awful, crazy, fun, loving, wonderful, indescribable life I have. I have so much to be thankful for, but I am not only thankful for these people and things on this day. I am thankful every single day. It doesn’t take a federal holiday to remind me of that. 

Thanksgiving was a tough day for me this year. I was mildly more irresponsible than I normally am, and had a few “oh f*ck” moments where I panicked a bit inside, but I had a shot of gin with you on the shore. I wrote a very quick and short note, stuck it in the sand and we just talked for a bit. Told you how mad I am at you, but how much I love you and hope that you knew it. Told you how I wasn’t sure how to do this, how to live without you, how to grieve, how to move on, or even what to do with my life. My future, my anything, my everything. I’m confused, and I’m lost. You’ve left me alone, you left me to test relationships, and you’re pushing me in the worst way, and yes, I can acknowledge that there’s probably some lesson somewhere down the line… I just don’t believe in myself enough. It’s like, I’m waiting for the aching and the broken heart to somehow give something back, I’m thinking and begging and hoping that I can bargain. Because that’s a stage of grief, yeah? I’m bargaining. I’d GIVE anything.

The replays in my head, they keep me up. That’s the worst… memory everything. I’ve never wished to take back anything in my life, or change anything because I am who I am for all of those experiences, but that one. That ONE thing. You. The loss of you, that is the absolute one thing I’d change in my life. I’d trade, I’d give, I’d keep you a thousand times, no matter how that would change my life. I’d change it in a heartbeat, I’d give, and I’d give, and I’d keep giving, for anything more with you.

You can’t possibly understand how devastated I still am. How shocked my soul is, how absolutely torn apart I am, in every single way… I feel more alone right now, in this moment, than I have ever felt before… and who’s there?

I miss your smile, and contagious laugh.

Missing you more than words,
c.

Sunnie.

I haven’t really spoken publicly yet about my feelings regarding the recent and sudden passing of my brother. I’m fully aware I’ve been silent and distant. I’ve spent this last week with variations of words that I’ve wanted to post. It’s been tough figuring out which parts I wanted to share, so here goes…

On Friday August 19th, 2016 — I received the worst phone call/news that I had ever gotten in my life. Nothing can describe the disbelief and the absolute heartbreak I experienced. My brother had passed away on August 17th, 2016.

The next 24 hours after that phone call were clear, but numbing. Words the man spoke rang in my ear all night. I cried so much, for so long. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t understand, I couldn’t process. I had no idea what to do. I’ve never experienced a loss like this. I had to tell my parents that night, and it was heart mangling. And even, after the most difficult and longest week of my life, I still am confused, I still do not understand, and I still have no idea what to do or how to feel.

Everyone keeps asking how it happened/what happened to him. Thing is… it doesn’t matter how, the fact is he is gone too soon. My friend, my brother. No 26 year old woman should ever have to be choosing a casket for her 31 year old brother. That should not be a thing.

I had gotten a total of 3 hours of sleep during that first 24 hours after finding out. I wanted to speak to no one, I didn’t want people reaching out, I didn’t want to be touched, or hugged, frankly it was pissing me off. Yes, I know people meant well and many just didn’t know what to do for me either, but dammit I was mad… I was irritated and frustrated by things that didn’t even matter. I wanted to curl up and be alone, absolutely alone.

I didn’t know what I was doing, just that it needed to be done (funeral arrangements). I didn’t know that I needed it, but my best friend from Philly flew out to Seattle on Sunday night. Thinking about that last week, I wouldn’t have been able to do everything without her. She fielded texts, messages, and phone calls when I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and when I was completely overwhelmed. When I wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for days, she got me out of the apartment. She helped me plan every thing, and put together all of the viewing, and obituary for the Argus Observer and for Emmick Family. Things that I would have never done or thought of myself. I witnessed a strength in her that week that I don’t even think she knew she had. I owe it all to you, Rache.

Every friend, family, co-worker, and person involved has been supportive and kind. The woman from the Flower Lab was so sweet, and the arrangements were perfect. The funeral director from Emmick took care of everything kindly, and gently. There are not enough words or thanks to express my gratitude to everyone. I really am very lucky to have such wonderful friends and support system.  Thank you so much to my best friend for flying here and getting me out of bed. For keeping me sane, and being my shoulder and my person. I truly could not have gotten through the hardest week of my life without you. Thank you so much to my close friends who have made me food, and offered to help in any way possible. For your sweet thoughts. Thank you to Sunnie’s friends for your kind words and memories shared, for the photos and the love. Thank you to everyone that has reached out to me via Facebook messenger, text, call, or any other way. If I hadn’t responded, know how thankful I am. It has been healing to see and read his Facebook wall. Thank you to my family from Portland, despite the history, family is family, and every one was so supportive, and willing to help. Seeing and spending that short time with you meant more than I can say. Thank you to each and every one of you who showed up to Sunnie’s viewing, from all across the country and to those who wanted to be there. Thank you from the entirety of mine and the Tam’s hearts. 

I like to believe I am a very self aware individual. I know that these things happen and no one could have predicted this. I know that this is life, that I can’t regret not saying goodbye to him the last Sunday I saw him. I can’t regret that I didn’t respond to his text on Monday asking me to save his metal collar tabs… I need to remember and embrace the memories we had, the fact that I got to see him almost every other Sunday, despite always feeling annoyed even when he wasn’t being annoying. I haven’t grasped this all quite yet, and I don’t really know when I will. Everyone grieves in their own way, yes. I’ve heard it. But also, this is NOT okay. I am not okay. I can’t have him back, but I need him. Going about my life like things are normal is what makes this all feel so surreal.

I knew that he wasn’t going to answer me as I sat next to his funeral bed, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying just yet. As unrealistic as that is, in my heart I need to keep talking to him, because right now I’m too numb to the fact that I’m never going to get to hear his laugh, going to argue with him or be able to grab a bite in the city. Life is not fair. He should be here, he was loved, he was a wonderful friend & brother. Sunnie was happy and bright, he was funny, loving, and the life of any party. He was so f*cking smart, he deserved more time, and I needed it.

Sunnie was a brother to so many, that’s all I’ve heard is “he was like my brother” and I know because he IS my brother… he is MY brother who should be here, continuing to give me his advice and wisdom, and to make me laugh at the dumbest sh*t.

I love you, ‘brotheryn’. My heart is a f*cking mess knowing that I don’t get to make anymore new memories with you. It’s a mess knowing that you’re gone.

Love,
‘sisteryn’