Grieving 101: My Promise to John

Ok, little brother.  Today marks one month since we lost you.  

I'm back to counting days (30) and weeks (4)  and months (1) since the moment of impact.

I have reset my watch.  I'm starting from the beginning again, re-navigating through Grief.  

You'd think I'd have this place thoroughly mapped out by now.  "Turn here.  Stop here.  Avoid this spot.  Don't even consider going to that one."  You know, the rules of the rocky road.

Well, that doesn't exactly apply this time around.  It seems your passing has taken me deeper into this forest.  Far further than I've ever been before. New terrain. New depths.  New hazards.

But, I want you to know something and it's important.  I want you to know that I won't let you down.

I know, I know...it hasn't looked too good lately.  Me crying into my fists.  Sobbing my days away.  Overcome with sadness.  A total fucking mess.

I see my reflection.  I'm aware of how bleak it's been.

But today, somehow, I realized that the person looking back in the mirror, with her swollen eyes and tear streaked cheeks, needs to make her little brother proud.

I also realized that's not going to happen by sitting at home, avoiding calls, shutting the world out.

So, I am making you a promise.  I'll find my way.  

I will live these days, as brightly as I possibly can...not just without you...but FOR YOU.  

I'll see...I'll do...I'll visit...I'll feel...I'll wonder...I'll wander and I'll love everything I'm able to in this life - not just or me...but I'll do it for you, too.

That's my promise.  Because that's how much I love you.

PS:  Get ready for the time of your other-wordly life.  

Grieving 101: The "Other" Eulogy

Note:  This is the "other" eulogy.  Because my mum would haunt me for the rest of my days if I spoke like this on the alter of our beautiful church.

I like a ton of people.  I love a lot of people.  I admire only a few.

My little brother, John, was at the top of that very selective list.

"How so?", you might ask.  Well, he embodied characteristics that I, personally, have to work hard to achieve.

Like, forgiveness.

John didn't care what happened yesterday.  He didn't weigh himself down with grudges over the moments you tripped and fell into being a shitty friend, sibling or person.  

If he loved you, he always loved you.  That day you sucked as a human didn't change that in his eyes.

Then there's his loyalty.

This is a biggie.  I'm not sure I've ever met someone more loyal than my John.  

I think I used to test his loyalty at times, because, as his/their big sister I am always the one asking questions.  And not just any questions, I ask the right questions. Over the years I've become something of a Question Asking Expert.  Pointing my words to the core, discarding any gray area and simply making it hard to avoid giving me a direct answer.  In short, when it comes to my brothers, I don't waste time on the bullshit.  

Each of my brothers handles my technique a little bit differently.  John has always been the most unwavering.  If it came down to a question that might shine a light on someone else's story, he'd grit his teeth, let out a deep breath and say "Come on, Tara (long exhale).  I don't know anything, ok?".

That "ok" was always a question, not a statement.  Because of that, I never pushed him.  Partly because that usually meant I was pretty close to the truth of the matter and mostly because I always admired this code of loyalty in him and never wanted to be the one to break it.

One of my favorite qualities was his honesty.

He didn't cherry coat things, hide many things or lie.  He was a pretty straight shooter in a world where being a straight shooter isn't easy.  

It's especially not easy when your sister is a royal pain in the ass and you know you are going to get an ear full about whatever it is you've been up to.  But thanks to his ability to forgive, he just let me be me - while he continued to be him.

Which brings us to his ability to love, unconditionally.

This is where John's a purist. 

He didn't give a rat's ass what you did last year, let alone what happened two hours ago.  He loved you for being you, always.

Now don't get me wrong here.  John was a grumpy son of a b*tch at times.  Working with him wasn't a picnic and if you caught him in a bad mood, well good luck.  On top of that he was smart as a whip and had no patience for anyone who wasn't (which was pretty much everyone).

However, underneath all that, he loved purely.

If you were in his circle, so to speak, you were in forever.  Mistakes, bad days, bad years, foolish acts, moments of weakness, he loved you anyway.

That's how big his heart was.  It had space to love the best you and the worst you all at once.

Now there's the characteristic that makes my heart ache and my eyes fill with tears.  His generosity.

He was, hands down, the most generous person I have ever known in all my days combined.

Shirt off his back, no problem.  Last dollar in his pocket, never a question.  Need something fixed, he would do it before you asked.   

He would give his time, his laughter, his humor and his love to anyone he cared for.  

In fact, he was so generous that he even bargained his soul so that Mum and Dad could pass seamlessly through Heaven's gates.

I know this because he told me.  He said so one day when we were all consumed with the grief of yet another loss  He looked at me with tears in his eyes and more love in his heart than any person I know.

I believed him when he told me this.  But I also believe that any person this generous doesn't have to bargain their soul for the safe passing of their loved ones.  That generosity is celebrated and cared for tenderly, as it should be.

In the end, John will remain one of the people I admire most in my life because of everything mentioned above and every other thing I either can't find the words for or choose not to share.

He was a better person than I am on my best days because he did kind things purely. He didn't rationalize generosity.  It was his natural state where others, me included, ponder and think and debate and then choose it.

John, at his core, was a giver.  

It is because of this I will always beam with pride for getting the chance to be John's big sister.

Grieving 101: Turbo Technology + Yoga

Yesterday, I heard John's voice.  No, not just in my dreams or in my broken mind.  I actually heard his voice.  I listened to a voicemail that was tucked in a sea of other voicemails that my iPhone won't let me delete.  For once, I'm eternally grateful for this technical hiccup.

Today, I opened Facebook to see a video of John doing the ALS Challenge back in August and nominating me.  I had never seen this video before, partly because I wasn't tagged in it, partly because I wasn't connected to the person who posted it and partly because I was out of country when it went live.

But today, I saw it.  I heard his raspy smoker's voice nominating me, his sister, to dump another bucket of ice cubes and frozen water over my head.

(I love being his sister.)

After Dad and Mum passed I couldn't look at photos of them, let alone listen to a voicemail or watch a video of them.  However, this time around I'm going to embrace our turbo technology and hope it helps me heal.   

My strategy is to go head to head with this grief.  I'm going to face it, head on.  I am not going to let it bully me into months of being a sloth, like I was after losing our parents.  

My little brother wouldn't want that.  And it's because of that I am going to will myself to do it differently.

I began this strategy yesterday by doing two things:  1) Listening to his voicemail message, twice and 2) By going to hot yoga class.  

In all honesty, I didn't have the energy to peel off my cozy clothes and step into yoga clothes (also known as cozy clothes), let alone leave my house.  But I told myself that even if I just sat in child's pose through class, I still had to do this.  I had to do something to banish the anxiety that has been sitting on my chest and wrapping it's long, wiry fingers around my throat since the 6am phone call informing me we lost John.

(Anxiety, if you don't already know, is a mean motherf*cker.)

So I went.  I was the quiet, sad looking girl in the back of the room willing herself through the 90 minute practice.  Yes, my eyes welled up in tears many times.  Yes, I almost passed out twice (insert child's pose here please).  Yes, I found myself in Savasana staring at the ceiling (not what you are supposed to do) wondering how it's possible I won't see John again.

Yes, that was me, the broken one in class.

When the instructor bid us farewell with "namaste" I crawled into standing position and post-class-hustled to my cubbie to collect my belongings.   The first thing I did was hit the button on my phone to see a photo of John and I (now my lock screen).   

As soon as I saw the image of his smiling face, I took my next step forward.

I'm going to use all these tech opportunities like other people use turbo shots of caffeine.  I'm going to let them boost me.  

I know it's what he expects of me (not some miserable version of his sister just scraping by).  

Bottom line: I am not in the business of letting my little brothers down.

So here I go…

Trigger...

For me songs are often my memory triggers.  A gateway, so to speak…

The happy, sad, romantic, and comical all come rushing in on the musical raft of nostalgia.  With intensity (and sometimes vengeance) these tunes swoop me up and start tugging on my heartstrings, playing me like their own instrument.

Remember that Sex And The City episode when Carrie was dating the jazz musician? He would spin her into his arms and play her like a bass guitar, strumming at her with all the his grooviness.  Remember him?  Yeah, well imagine something like that but not always so hip, groovy and fun.

This random song is one of those that I often avoid.  Not just avoiding in the "walk by and pretend you don't see them" way.  I'm talking about full-blown "bolting out the backdoor to be CERTAIN you don't come within the vicinity of them" way.  We're talking about 5-alarm avoidance.  The "STOP, DROP + ROLL" of avoidance. 

As soon as the first few bars hum I usually move faster than light to turn it off.   Why?  Well, there's this crazy thing that happens when I'm not prepared to think of my Dad.  It's like a lifetime of memories play on fast forward behind my eyelids and when I get to the part that hurts the most I feel something similar to a 2' by 4' smack me in my soul...and it hurts...and it knocks the wind out of me....and it makes me feel like shit, basically.

(Stop, drop and roll.)

Now, if I decide to stroll down Memory Lane on my own accord, I'm fine.  I can purposefully dig through song lists and cherry pick the ones that feel warm and fuzzy.  I'm ok with that.  In fact, I'm better than OK with that.  I am a full blown ROCK STAR at that.  However, when a rogue song or memory or feeling has the audacity to "try me"...well, I guess I've still got a lot of healing ahead of me.

Today, this song came to mind.  Rather than wincing and pushing it out of my thoughts I was feeling courageous, curious and brave (you know, the formula for naive kittens) and I decided to give it a try.  To hear it, feel it and allow all those memories that go along with it to wash over me.

It's the first time I could ALMOST listen to the whole thing.  The first time in nearly 7 years (yes, we are just shy of 7, which I find unbelievable too) I've been able to achieve this.

I consider this to be a positive sign that some of my soul scars are healing.  Being the sucker for positivity that I am, I'll take it in any form I can get it.

So, here's to celebrating the fact that there is hope for our deepest hurts (ever so slowly) healing.

"But when the night is falling

and you cannot find the light

If you feel your dream is dying

Hold tight

You've got the music in you

Don't let go

You've got the music in you

One dance left

The world is gonna pull through

Don't give up

You've got a reason to live…"

"You Get What You Give"

— New Radicals

:: Always from under the same sky ::

Tara

Forevermore

You came to me
in my dreams

and said 

goodbye.

You whispered 

in my ear

how much 

you loved me

now

and 

forever.

It was so real

I woke up

knowing...

that my days 

were to be 

without you

forevermore.

I could no longer 

reach to you

or 

for you.

I could 

no longer

call your name.

You were gone.

What you didn't know

and what I 

could only 

hope for...

is that 

as night fell

and my eyes closed

our souls would meet

in my dreams

every night.

We would play

and laugh

and love

like only we can.

We would be together

in a way

that our earthly selves

could never achieve.

Because of this

beautiful gift

I do not 

mourn you.

Instead, 

I anticipate

our infinite moments

dancing in the twilight

of our love.

Forever ours.

Forevermore.

Some Days For Someday

Some days

I have trouble 

shedding

this layer

of sadness.

Some days

it's too heavy

for me to haul up

and off 

my chest.

Some days

it holds on

with a grip

far stronger 

than my will.

Some days

I'm too weak

to do the work

that's required of me

to strip myself bare

of the burden.

Some days

I just have to accept 

this truth

and surrender myself

to the cruel power

of these 

pains...

and simply 

let them be.

So another someday

won't be the same

as this day.