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Posts Tagged ‘brother’

So Our House of Chaos has been going along at its normal clip. Marching band has officially started up again (but does it ever really stop, I think not). Older Son started working at his first job (kitchen staff at the camp!) a couple of weeks ago. Younger Son is there this week for sailing camp. So the house is quiet other than the menagerie of animals.

But the thing is I seriously am being haunted by my bro and I wish I could figure out what he’s trying to tell me. Had a dream we were having lunch together, but my mind must have been scared because I got hung up on condiments in the dream, and then realized I was missing time to see Bro, realized it was a dream while in the dream, and woke up.

Heard “Landslide” in the hoagie shop with Younger Son yesterday. Burst into a giant ugly cry. Yes, people noticed. Younger Son was super, cleaned everything up so I could ugly cry my way quickly out the door. Haven’t heard that song on a radio station in over a year.

And then he’s just so in my head and I can’t get him out of it. Still in a bout with the dagnabbit vertigo. Not sleeping well, not eating well.

Just want to have a good night’s sleep. Hoping the mental dump to you, my five or so Gentle Readers, will help.

Debated putting this under “My Lunch with”…but went with Musings….

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Happy birthday, bro. I miss you.

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Ah, Christmas time…this has been a hell of a year. I will write the cliche…each year passes more quickly than the last. And this year has flown byat times and dragged on forever at other times. Actually, not quite dragged on, more like stood still. I have been very aware of the human construct of time this year… particularly the American construct of time. And I’ve ignored it a lot this year.

I am letting myself enjoy the Christmas season. It officially kicked off for me last Saturday. The sons joined me at A Christmas Carol again. Sixth time? Seventh? Can never seem to remember. We had a Christmas event at church…a lovely night of song. This weekend is filled with plans to celebrate with new friends, friends from high school, and dear old friends to wrap up the weekend! 

Working on my home. Removing the old crappy broken subfloor and installing new subfloor/flooring downstairs for Younger Son. The fourth bedroom is downstairs (1970s split level houses…gotta love ’em) and it’s the same size as Older Son’s room. So Younger Son will have the same space, although the extra space (compared to his bedroom upstairs) comes in the form of a two-feet deep closet that spans an entire wall. So dressers, shelves, etc. go in the closet opening up the space.

And decluttering continues because damn, we have a lot of junk. It feels great to purge, purge, and purge some more. I’ve added some pictures to the wall. Reorganized stuff. It all feels good.

I’m still struggling with my faith. Still grieving my brother. Still hating suicide. Still trying to reconcile how his suicide makes any sense, which it doesn’t is all I can come up with. Still releasing years of emotional crap loaded into and onto me by my mother and sister and have disowned me. I am finally really accepting how little my life has changed now that they told me I was evil and would be burning in hell for my choices. While it’s been painful to realize how many lies there were, I can’t say I’ve missed the three texts they usually sent in the course of a year. It is sad that they think they’ve ended some deep, close relationship. Three texts a year does not a relationship make.

So as I move away from the pain, work through the grief, I find I am getting lighter. 

The lights and decorations look brighter, more sparkly than before. I’m feeling the joy wash over me.

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Since my brother’s death I haven’t really wanted to know anyone better. It’s not the right choice, but it’s the right choice right now. A lot has changed in my life since Bear died. So much good stuff has happened, and I do celebrate all of that. But there is sadness, there is grief.

So when my brother died too, again unexpectedly, it was just such a hard blow. Grief books talk about all kinds of grief, but not grief from a suicide. I suppose when I am ready I’ll remember that there’s a world wide web out there and find materials about that. But I’m back to denial and am content to sit there for a bit. It’s better than playing the “what if” game, which nobody wins.

My cousin gave me a lamp that belonged to our grandmother. A friend just finished repairing it. I am excited to hang it in my room and have a visual reminder of so much good in my life. 

I thought again the other day that I wish I didn’t think about stuff as much as I do. But clearly that isn’t changing. I need to carve out time each day to process it. Perhaps letting myself think about the “stuff” a little each day will help alleviate the days when it becomes all encompassing. I’d rather be living, doing things, than sitting and thinking. 

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