Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Moving. Always Moving.

Lots has been going on in my little head these last few weeks. I am moving. I am always moving. Maybe not physically, but mentally. I realized that much of the way I cope with hard spots is to move-- to run away. If I can't run away physically, I run away emotionally, or I run to a movie or even food. I run. I don't want to face the pain. I don't want to deal with Nate's death. I want everything to be ok. What is ok? I don't have any idea. I don't know how to explain death to myself, so how do I talk about it with people? And, the other big question, is how do I deal with people who don't even acknowledge my pain. I spent some time with a girlfriend recently, and she kept saying the stupidest things-- like she couldn't understand why I was tired (duh, the most emotionally exhausted I've ever been... not to mention, I have a 14 month old who is just learning to walk... it's not like I get to take naps during the day or just take life easy) or why Cole wasn't being himself (hum, lets think about it, Cole understands I'm stressed), or why I was sad. At one point, I looked at her and said, My brother died. She still didn't get it. How do I deal with people who just really don't get it-- I understand that lots of people haven't had death near them, but to not even try. Come on.
So, to anyone who doesn't know what to say when they're faced with death, say, "I'm sorry, this really sucks." Hug the person. Tell them you love them. Then follow up with "this just really sucks."
The End for now

Saturday, March 21, 2009

And so we say good-bye

We buried my brother today. Yesterday I said my final good-bye to his still form. He lay in the casket, I read a letter to him, crying the whole time, and then I kissed his cold face good-bye. The last good-bye. The last time I will ever look into his face. The last time I will ever see my brother on this side of heaven. Good-bye, my big brother, good-bye. Today, at his funeral, we sat and cried as a family. We shared moments of our time with him. We even laughed a little bit. We celebrated his life. It was a bitter sweet celebration. We then went to the grave yard, and lowered his casket into the ground-- his final resting place. I walked away today knowing I loved my brother hard, he loved me hard. I want to live in such a way that I don't miss a moment. Life is fleeting, and I want to capture everything I can while I can. Live life large, love deeply, and cherish your loved ones. Good-bye, Nate.

Friday, March 13, 2009

What do I say

How do I express the depth of loss I feel? I don't know. I feel like a piece of me has died along with my brother. My brother, dead, how can that be? He was full of life- perhaps too full. He lived life to the extreme. I loved that about my brother. I hated that about my brother. He was never afraid to say his mind, to live out loud, to be adventurous. He was smart, yet made bad choices. He was so funny and had this contagious laughter-- I couldn't help but laugh along, even if it was something we shouldn't laugh at-- like the Chin (that's a joke between him and me) He was someone I always looked up, even when he was troubled. I couldn't help but look up to Nate. I couldn't help but love him. He knew me my whole life. He was there teaching me to swim, to ride a bike, to tumble. He helped me grow up in many ways, some ways were hard. I learned we can have the greatest families, and still choose drugs. I learned that sober Nate and not sober Nate were very different people. I learned to love him even when he wasn't himself. That to judge people is so very wrong, we just don't know where they're at in their journey. He was itching to have peace. He was always searching, not realizing that the God who loves him, wanted Nate to be at peace in Him. Nate did love Jesus. Nate always spoke of his relationship with Jesus. He was solid on that point. He just had an addiction-- to sin. Don't we all. Why does some sin kill? Why does some sin entice us to such depths? I don't know.
I sit and think of Nate. I think of how it seems like he was just here visiting me while I was pregnant. How thankful I am that I left a birthday party early to spend time with Nate. That was the last time I saw him. I will miss my big, spontaneous brother. I will miss his lanky hugs, his crooked smile, his insatiable laugh. I will even miss his teasing. I will love him forever, I will love him for always, as long as I'm living, my brother he'll be.
So much sorrow. How can I handle it? I don't know. I don't know.