Decade

july 14, 2005 is the day my brother died at 17 years old because of a water park accident in Ponca City, OK. the accident was due to the perceived invincibility that 17 year olds have, and gross negligence and childishness by the owners of the park.

his birthday was july 1.

the first couple of years july was simply a hard month. it's a lot to reconcile yourself with in 2 weeks. sadness at the passing birthday, but also wanting to celebrate the life you had with someone, followed immediately by the day that stole them from your life in a fantastically precise sequence of random events.

it sets a tone. your mind and body remember that turmoil of emotions and you become pavlov's dog. each day rings out and you salivate and then gorge yourself on grief.

it's hard to break that cycle, especially when everyone surrounding you is victim to it as well. it seems normal. it seems impossible to defend against.

i was very lucky last year to have a friend who had lost a sibling around the same ages that my brother and i were when he left earth. a friend whose family had come well out the other side.

someone who graciously and gently reminded me that it was simply a day. and that i was giving it control over me.

i think i began crying some time around 11:45 the evening of july 14, 2014. by far the longest i had ever made it in the previous 9 years. i didn't have much energy left to process that milestone, but the last year has given me plenty of time to mull it over.

i came to realize that it WAS just a day. just july 14. a bad day for our family, yes. but probably a miraculous day for so many other families. we have dark days scattered throughout history. i certainly don't break down every year on the anniversary of the oklahoma city bombing, though that event was the first major disaster that i had full cognition of and made a huge impact on my childhood. the loss of my brother was much more profound than the feelings stirred in me on april 19, 1995. but i deeply grieved my brother for much longer than i grieved the victims of OKC.

i have never believed that my brother was gone. gone here in front of me, yes. but i have, from the day he died, believed that he was still with me because of the great gift of communion with the saints. i call him the patron saint of peanut butter.

(side note: in catholicism, theoretically everyone who gets through purgatory and into heaven is a saint. we just assume that some people make it through purgatory with rapid speed and have reasonable faith that they are in heaven because they performed miracles and thus appear to actually have undoubtedly had God's favor, so we canonize them. the pope will never canonize my brother and label him the patron saint of peanut butter, but i like to think Jesus fist bumps me whenever i say it)

i talk to him often and i visualize him here with us, guarding us and witnessing our lives.

he sees us laughing, loving, growing our families. he hears our jokes and sees our hugs. i'm sure he laughs when i use mom's lines on my own kids. he sees us lively, light, and joyful.

and then he watches us allow it to abruptly come to a massive, screeching halt.

because of him.

i would never want that for my family if i left them here on earth.

the inexplicable days where it's just too much, i would understand and feel sorrow. i wouldn't want my family to be in the throes of summer exhilaration, only to feel obligated to interrupt it so they could put on a mourning cloak for me and give power to the day i died.

beyond that, i came to what i can only call a very catholic conclusion: this is one day. july 14 was one day in AJ's life. arguably the darkest day. the last day of his physical life. and that is a big deal.

but it was not the last day of his spiritual life. it honestly may not have even been a profound day for his soul. it very likely was not the darkest nor the most profound moment in his soul's existence.

if i believe his soul is still pulsing through eternity, there is no reason to treat this day with such somber reverence.

on earth this day may signify a great loss. but in heaven, for all i know, today he is having a peanut butter party with our dog beaker and my grandma b and his cousin A and L (our sister's mother in law).

i expected the 10 year mark to be earth shattering. to be as painful as our 10 year wedding anniversary will be joyful.

instead (thankfully), it is just a tuesday. we're getting groceries and i taught the letters A and M to the kids at the gym. we ate lunch as a family and the kids got covered in dirt and sand. my first thoughts this morning centered around figuring out the schedule for the day and lamenting my stupidity for staying up until 3am to read.

and for coffee. my first thoughts are always for coffee.

rather than feeling guilty, i am finding that i finally feel free.

and i find myself hoping and wishing for that freedom for everyone. not only for us, but for the loved ones we've all lost.

i think they would want to be remembered for the life they led, not the day that life stopped on earth.

at least that's what i want.