Today, one year ago…

…I lost my beloved bro to his own hand. To his own secret rage and hidden destruction. He was the one person in my life I never thought I would have to learn to live without. He was the one constant wherever I went and whatever I did. There would always be me and him. It had to be. It had to.

But it wasn't. And I am still searching for a way to accept that.

Every so often I find myself staring into thin air, realizing that I am no longer doing the dishes or watching birds in the garden but instead replaying flash memories of the funeral in my head, making myself witness it all again…

Funny, the details that stick in my mind. The feel of the cool pine of the coffin. The countless single roses that covered it. Mine being the only white one. Another one had a tiny paper bone stuck to it… I made the card myself and didn't have to turn it over to know it read “Thalia” on the back of that bone…

I remember faces, and red weepy eyes… but I don't remember who they belonged to. Everything is just a blur. And I remember thinking how I'd never seen so many people crying at the same time before. And I remember how eerily quiet the crying was. Almost as if it was stuck in everyone's throats and couldn't come out, except in large empty tears. A collective sob that never was…

I remember my mom shaking. And my dad squeezing my hand so hard I thought it would be broken when he let go. But I don't remember feeling any pain from it, even though it was bruised for days afterwards.

I remember the way he used to look at me when he was trying to convince me to go do something with him. And worst of all, I remember my last words to him in the airport a few months earlier when we hugged goodbye “See ya at Christmas, so ya better be good!! And take good care of yourself for me, Handsome” … those words are eating me alive today. I don't know how many times I've gone over them in my head and wished I had said something else… something different… something that might have made a difference. But I know now that at that point in time, nothing I could say to him in an airport would have made any difference at all to what would happen.

I hear his voice. I see his smiles. And that annoyingly beautiful cheeky smile of his. I remember the feel of his hugs… and of his 3mm hair just after it had been trimmed.

There are days when remembering is good and it makes me smile to feel him so close. But today I just want it to stop. I want it to go away. I just want him to let me get on with my life now like I have been trying to.

And deep down inside I know it's just one of those days that will come and go now. Maybe in time I will be able to embrace them more … I hope so.

But for now, it's just one of those days…

Today, one year ago…

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