six years

Six years, as of yesterday.  Six years.  It feels a moment and a lifetime.  A fresh, angry, gaping wound and a dull, ever-fading scar.  I didn't really mark the day yesterday.  I acknowledged it briefly and then I tamped it down, powered through and pretended it wasn't happening.  I survived the day.  It is an ugly, ugly day and it is just a day like any other.  As I'm sure I've said in past years, my little brother is just as dead today as he was yesterday.  The anniversary technically makes the number of years he's been gone continue to tally up, but it's arbitrary, really.

And you know what?  I was fine yesterday.  By evening, I felt I'd been bottling up the feelings of the day, and I was afraid I wouldn't fall asleep easily.  I knew if I didn't settle to sleep, the flood gates would open and I'd probably end up crying late into the night.  I did, though.  I fell asleep and I slept fairly well.  For the first time since Greg died, I marked the anniversary without falling apart AND without feeling guilty about not falling apart.  Being okay doesn't mean I miss him any less.  It doesn't mean I am less sad or less hurt.  It doesn't mean I won't still have bad days, sad days - I definitely do - but it does mean I'm healing.  It means I am making my active, conscious decision, every single day, to live life and to move forward.


Maresi said...

For the first April 9th in 6 years, I didn't wake up in a panic of grief. I actually had had a dream about him, and I woke up smiling.

EDH said...

I find that the actual day itself isn't SO bad, but the weeks leading up to it are awful. When the calendar turns to June, I just get antsy and moody. The day after the anniversary is such a relief.

I'm thinking of you.

Lynne Dintiman - said...

Today I have broken down more than I have worked, and yet, I know there is hope as time passes, and I thank you all here for reminding me of that. It is so raw and horribly painful and real - and yet my mind and heart still refuse to accept that I lost my "little big" brother Brian just a few short days ago (it feels) on Nov. 13, 2012. How did you get through, how do you get through, I wonder? One step at a time, I am told, so today, I am trudging but I will hold close the hope that I see in Amy's posts about sweet Emmett, traditions and loving our little brothers from down here on earth by keeping memories and traditions alive like Christmas tree cutting. Peace & blessings to you all. -Lynne

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