Your absence is screaming at me today. Questions that will never have answers run through my mind. Did you really think you had nothing left to live for? Were we not enough? Did you even give a thought to how we'd feel? Did the 11 years of love and memories not mean anything to you? Did you even consider the pain we would live with for the rest of our lives? You may have put an end to your pain, but you magnified ours for a lifetime.
Did you not know how greatly you are loved?
How deeply your absence would be felt?
I can't fathom the idea that you thought the answer to your problems was found at the end of a gun. I can't imagine you making that decision without a thought, without a care, for your mothers, your fathers, your sisters, your brothers. Your son.
Did you give a thought to what kind of man he would become? Do you know that he is in honor band for not one but two instruments? Do you know that he looks more like you everyday? Do you know that we aren't able to see him? Not only did we loose you, we lost him; the only part of you that is left in this world. Do you know that tomorrow our niece will come into the world? A beautiful, gentle, innocent little girl who will never truly know what a radiant and loving man her uncle was. She will never know your infectious laughter or your bright smile. Your playfulness or giddiness. She will never know monkey butt or pottyac. She will forever live without the joy just knowing you brought to our lives. All she will ever have of you are photographs and stories. Did you think of that as you walked to the tree? Did you imagine the things left still to do as you sat down? Did you wonder of those who were still to come when you raised your arm? Did you not consider that maybe life isn't so bad after all as you pulled the trigger?
Or how final that shot would be?
I don't know how you could ever think that we wouldn't be there for you, wouldn't love you unconditionally, wouldn't do everything in our power to make sure you were happy. That you weren't loved beyond all reason, with anything less than the entire fiber of our being.
It's said that you really don't know what you have until it's gone. I don't know of any words that speak more truth than that. I'm living it. I didn't fully comprehend the privilege it was to be your little sister or to know the love of the best big brother that ever lived. Not until it was too late.
Too late to tell you a million times, "I love you".Too late to hug you and never let go.
Too late to hear you laugh.
Too late to make a lifetime of memories.
My heart aches - no, it's deeper than that - my very being aches with your absence. I think I'm moving forward, that I'm grieving less and living more. But the truth is I will never move forward. I will never grieve less or live more. I will never not think of you every minute of every day. I will never think of the memories we shared, or those we could have shared, with anything less than complete and absolute sorrow. Because when you have someone that carries such a light in your life and then one day they aren't there anymore, there isn't anything on this earth that will make their absence bearable. When someone is taken from you so tragically and unexpectedly, there isn't anything that can be said or done that will make it ok to live without them.
You give the best imitation you can, but behind the mask, the sorrow and emptiness remain.
I often wonder who I might have been had you chosen a different path. We don't realize that the choices we make affect those we love. The moment I found out the devastating path you chose, my path, the woman I was, became completely and irrevocably altered. I see two different people when I think about that moment. It's like the movie Sliding Doors. The person I was is living in a parallel universe completely oblivious to the abject sorrow of the loss of her brother, while I am here, in this life, in this pain.
I've lost count of how many times I've cried myself to sleep. I don't know why I can put on a brave face during the day, but at night I breakdown with the weight of your absence.
It took me 5 years to realize that when you sent that text, "Happy late Thanksgiving", it was days later that you were gone. How has it taken me this long to realize that? I had the chance to change the path of both our lives and I didn't take it. I didn't know I needed to. That realization led me to wonder if that was your way of reaching out - of trying to find someone to help you through the pain. And all I replied with was, "Happy late Thanksgiving". Not "I love you" or "I miss you" or "You need to come see my new apartment". No. Just a generic, reciprocating, meaningless response.
One that I will forever regret.
Did you really think this world would be a better place without you? Because I can tell you unequivocally that it is far worse. You may have thought you didn't matter to the world, but you sure as hell mattered to me. To mom. To Jeff and Taylor. To your son. Why wasn't that enough?
Do you know how many times I have wanted to run to my big brother and tell him of my problems? Or to just see your smile or hear you laugh? How many times I have wanted to tell you I love you? How many moments I have wanted you to be here for?
After all this time, I can't accept that this is my reality. That living this life without you is now the norm. It's been 5 years and still I can't find the joy and laughter in life I once took for granted. I never considered what my life would be without you, because I never, in a million years, thought I would have to. But you made that choice for me.
You took the selfish way out, without a thought, possibly without a care, to what I or anyone else would feel the very second, and every minute after, that we found out you were gone. So now we live this life, welcome new people into our family, celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas, and in between the fleeting moments of joy, excitement and happiness, and every moment, good or bad, we wish you were here to share it with. To be a part of this messy, chaotic, heartbreaking, beautiful life.
But you aren't. So I pick myself up every day, put my mask on and head out the door to live as best as I can, to find out who this new woman is. And when that doesn't work, I think of you and the love and memories we shared, the laughter, and I realize that you wouldn't want me to be anything less than the little sister that you admired and loved.
So that's what I'll be.
Until I can see you again.
