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Five Years
Oct. 15th, 2008 08:30 pmFive years ago, my brother Joe died.
Five years.
I had only just moved to Tennessee...we moved on Labor Day and six weeks later I got the phone call at 1 am that changed my life forever.
And, I am ashamed to say...I forgot that today was the day.
Completely, utterly forgot.
Busy with work, I'm in charge of organizing "Boss's Day" tomorrow, we have a new team member, planning the anniversary trip...yadda yadda yadda.
I can't believe that I forgot...today is the day my big little brother finally found peace...
It's not that I don't think about him...and often. He still visits me in my dreams sometimes. I have a small shrine with some of his ashes, a photo of the family and a couple of his small knick-knacks.
His memory is no longer a gaping, open wound...it's more of an endless ache. A pain which is there, in the background, like a bruise or a scrape. Not too noticeable until you probe it and it flares up to remind you it's still there. That happens to me a couple of times a month.
I should have remembered without having to be reminded. I'm ashamed of myself.
Here's the video slide show I made the year after he died.
Please go and hug your loved ones right now...don't wait. Tell them you love them. You never know when it will be for the last time. The one thing I'm so thankful for is that the very last thing I ever said to my brother was "I love you. Drive safe."
I still love him. I still miss him.
Five years.
I had only just moved to Tennessee...we moved on Labor Day and six weeks later I got the phone call at 1 am that changed my life forever.
And, I am ashamed to say...I forgot that today was the day.
Completely, utterly forgot.
Busy with work, I'm in charge of organizing "Boss's Day" tomorrow, we have a new team member, planning the anniversary trip...yadda yadda yadda.
I can't believe that I forgot...today is the day my big little brother finally found peace...
It's not that I don't think about him...and often. He still visits me in my dreams sometimes. I have a small shrine with some of his ashes, a photo of the family and a couple of his small knick-knacks.
His memory is no longer a gaping, open wound...it's more of an endless ache. A pain which is there, in the background, like a bruise or a scrape. Not too noticeable until you probe it and it flares up to remind you it's still there. That happens to me a couple of times a month.
I should have remembered without having to be reminded. I'm ashamed of myself.
Here's the video slide show I made the year after he died.
Please go and hug your loved ones right now...don't wait. Tell them you love them. You never know when it will be for the last time. The one thing I'm so thankful for is that the very last thing I ever said to my brother was "I love you. Drive safe."
I still love him. I still miss him.
