Ripped off

I'm reading a book right now called The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. I picked it up before we left L.A. so I would have something to read on the plane to Sydney. I actually didn't start reading it until we arrived. It's an interesting story, but it took a turn I didn't expect and now it's dealing a little with the subject of loss. The following excerpt really struck me:

Fragmentary emotions possessed and released him, drawn like garments from a wardrobe and discarded, one after another.

This line, and other imagery I won't regurgitate here, took hold of me and the grief once again flowed freely. It was like a bandage being ripped off, but part of it was stuck to the wound and when it was pulled away, it took some flesh with it. It's amazing to me how quickly I can be taken back to that place...instantly transported back to that hospital room, standing over him, holding his hand, watching the life leave him. It's still as real and vivid as the day it happened, but yet...not...real...at all. It can't be, can it?

Visions of Tyler

Today was my first Christmas in Australia. Martine and I got up at 6am with the kids and have been going ever since. We had a beautiful picnic at the park with good food and good company. This picture is me with Ethan, Anthony and Vanessa's youngest child. He's a cutie! The day this picture was taken he had decided he wanted to play with me and we bonded. He smiles at me all the time now. I love it. I look forward to watching him grow up.

It was a great day, but I kept imagining Tyler there with us. I could see him clearly, playing with the little kids in the park, chatting with Gary and Spencer, giving mum a hug, and toasting Christmas with Anthony, Vanessa and Ali. I could see him helping Gary and Spence with the bbq at Ali's house tonight. There were a couple of moments when I actually forgot he wasn't really there. I know how much he would have loved my new extended family, how much he would have loved the woman I'm about to marry, how well he would have fit in with all of them. On the way home, I lost my emotional control and I cried. I'm still crying. This is our second Christmas without him and I still DON'T BELIEVE HE'S GONE. It makes me so angry and sad. I want him back every minute of every day.

Merry Christmas, little brother. I miss you and I love you, and this sucks...

Remembering

This is me reflected in a Christmas ball hanging on the tree outside my dad's house. I helped him finish the last of the outdoor decorating on Monday. As we worked I thought back to Christmas of 2007. Tyler was here with us and the three of us installed a basketball hoop on the garage. I stared at that hoop as I worked silently with Dad. The tears came...as usual, but I stifled them. The memory struck me hard. Dad and I had lunch later that day and talked a little about the grief. It's still so hard to believe Tyler was taken from us. I heard from my mom the same day. She was having a memory about Tyler and she was crying. She wanted to hear my voice. It's often still so hard to talk about the loss we're all feeling.

I'm going to take some of Ty's ashes to Australia with me and spread them somewhere on the West coast. I know he would have wanted to go there. I wish he was coming over to hang out with us while we're there. I wish...a lot of things. I know life isn't fair, but THIS IS SOOOOOO UNFAIR AND UNJUST. I don't wish death on anyone but the following statement may give that impression. Why couldn't the universe have taken someone less worthy of life?!? There are many options, I'm sure. Again, I don't wish death on anyone; I just miss my brother. If there's anyone who didn't deserve to die, it's him.