Tyler's Blog

A new normal

2011-12-26T11:54:00.000-08:00

I spent Christmas in Southern California with Dad and Ginny. It has been nice being here, but the missing is much stronger this time of year. I can remember the last Christmas Tyler spent here. It was 2007 and I was living here at the time. I had just moved here in mid-November and I was still adjusting. I was soooooooooooooooooo happy to see him and we had such a great time.

After he passed, I saw a grief counselor for a minute. I didn't like her much, but she did say one thing to me that really stuck. She said, "you have to find your new normal. You are forever changed by this experience." She was so right about that. I suppose I have found my new normal, but it involves a void that will never be filled. When I sit in that void and feel it, well...there's no pain quite like it. Nothing I've experienced anyway.

I miss you, Tyler. We all do. I love my life and the people in it, but I miss sharing all the joys and sorrows with you. You were the one with whom I always wanted to share my greatest news, even before shouting it from the rooftops. The void is forever void. There will always that piece missing from my new normal.

The scar remembers

2011-10-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of the site where we spread Tyler's ashes. My dad dubbed it "Ty's Monument," so I thought it was a good choice for this post. It has been a very long time since I put my thoughts down in this blog. That doesn't mean that I've stopped thinking about him. It doesn't mean that I've stopped missing him. He is always with me and that will never change. On October 20th, three years ago, Tyler had surgery to remove the tumor that was growing up into his brain and down his spine. We were all scared, but we were hopeful that he would come out of it just fine. We all know how the story ends and there's a place in my heart that is forever broken. The scar left behind is a living, breathing entity with a memory of its own.

I was completely blindsided a couple of days ago by grief over the loss of Tyler. Not that I haven't experienced moments of it here and there; I definitely have, but this experience was so powerful it took my breath. It took me back to the night I talked to him on the phone about a week before his surgery and he was reassuring me that he was going to be fine. He was positive and upbeat about it, and he was taking care of me. I still don't know to this day how scared he really was because he didn't say. He was being the strong one, as usual. I had cried so much that day, and so deeply, that I hardly recognized myself. The thought of losing him had touched me in a place that had never been touched. I spent a lot of time in that place three years ago, and I stumbled upon it again earlier this week. Although he's never far from my thoughts, I wasn't actively thinking about him at the time. I mentioned this blog to a friend when she was asking about reading some of my writing, and that was all it took. I found that deep place again. I didn't understand how I got there so quickly, so suddenly. I've been able to talk about him and this blog many times over the last three years without going there, so how was this time any different? I've come to realize that the scar left on my heart, on my soul, has its own memory. My conscious mind was unaware of the date and its significance, but the scar reminded me. I'm still amazed by that.

Now that I've been reminded, I'm riding out the wave, feeling the pain of loss again in that deep place. It's unpleasant to say the least, but I hope it's also healing in some way. I came back to this blog because writing it always helped me. It's like a therapy session only without the hefty bill. It's all part of the process that will be life-long, possibly longer...

I love you, Tyler, and I miss you so much.

An infinite well

2010-06-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

I can't believe my last post to this blog was in January...and now it's June. It just goes to show that life continues, even after someone really close passes away. I know that's what he would want too. This picture was taken by my dad. He called it "Tyler's Monument." It's a rock that was near where we spread Tyler's ashes.

We were driving home from Michigan a couple of weeks ago and I was thinking while I was driving. I saw some over-the-top religious symbol on the side of the road. I think it was a gigantic cross. It made me think of the movie "Religulious" by Bill Maher. It's a satire on the hypocrisy of Christianity and it's hilarious!!! As I was thinking about it, I remembered that it was Tyler who told me to go see it. I had another one of those 'I can't believe he's gone' or 'I can't believe he'll never call me up again' or 'he was my baby brother and he wasn't supposed to leave before me' moments and the flood gates opened. It reminded me that grief is an infinite well. If I were to drop a coin in this well and listen for the clink when it hits the bottom, I would be listening forever...waiting for that final sound. When I'm not consciously visiting the well, it's still there and it's still bottomless. It's as deep as the hole left in my soul by his absence. I think about him every day in some way or another. Even as I write this, I have to fight back the rising tide of grief. The moments of complete breakdown may be fewer and farther between, but they are just as strong as the day he left us. There is no end to the infinite well of sadness, but I suppose I am in control of how often I visit it. Sometimes I'm taken to that place without warning and sometimes I go there to take a dip.

I guess it's all part of the journey. The journey that has no destination.

Oceans meet

2010-01-30T04:26:00.000-08:00

Last week we were at the Southwestern most point of Australia, near the Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse. It's the point where the Southern Ocean and the Indian Ocean meet. It was an amazingly beautiful spot and I felt blessed to be standing there. I brought some of Tyler's ashes with me when I came over here, but I hadn't really decided where I would leave them. I knew it wouldn't be in Sydney, as Tyler had been there once before. As we stood on this point where the two oceans meet, it suddenly dawned on me that I was standing on the very spot where he would have wanted to be. My dad happened to be with me this day and I asked him to help me spread the ashes. I saved half of them for him. My sweetheart took this picture of me scattering them into the wind. The moment felt the same as it did nearly one year ago when I spread his ashes in Arizona. It was as if a part of me was being ripped away and cast into the wind. I felt incredible trepidation as I walked to the edge of the rock. It was as if I was doing something wrong. Again, it felt like a betrayal in some way. I know he would have loved this beautiful corner of the world and knowing that made it easier to let the ashes go.

My dad said "Rest in peace, my son." I say "I hope you are in a better place and that there was some higher purpose for you in this vast universe. I have to believe that, otherwise your death will never make any sense or hold any meaning."

I love you, Tyler.

Another birthday

2010-01-20T15:49:00.000-08:00

It's January 21st here in Western Australia. It's a beautiful day and we're enjoying the company of great mates and family, but there's a shadow looming. Tyler would have been 38 years old today. I imagine myself picking him up at the airport and taking him out for dinner in Freo. He would love it here.

I still can't believe he's gone.
I still get angry.
I still have moments of overwhelming grief.
I still miss him every day.
I don't expect any of that to change.
It's part of my new normal.

Happy Birthday, sweet brother. I can only hope you are somewhere celebrating a new kind of 'life' and watching over us as we toast the life we knew. You are sorely missed and always loved.

Ripped off

2009-12-30T16:19:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-25T03:37:00.000-08:00

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

2009-12-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

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.

Tonight

2009-11-05T17:18:00.001-08:00

I'm not really sure why I picked this photo, other than the fact that it is reflective of Ty's sense of humor. Those of you who knew him probably can see that.

Tonight is really, really, really, really (I could go on....) difficult. A year ago tonight we all gathered at Tyler's bedside to say goodbye. He actually passed away on November 6th, as it was after 1:00am when it happened. It has been a year and I still can't believe he's gone. I can still see him so clearly. I can still hear his deep voice. I can still hear his laughter and it makes me smile.

We're leaving for New Orleans tomorrow and we've been working on our new house all day. The distractions are huge and they are welcome, but they are fleeting. Tonight when I lay down my head and all is quiet, I will think of where I was one year ago tonight...and my heart will break all over again.

If you live in Indy, take a look at the November 6th Indy Star. There will be an ad in the 'In Memory/Obituary' section. If you don't get a paper, you can probably find it online. I miss him so much.

I love you, Tyler.

It's amazing...

2009-10-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

The closer I get to the anniversary of his death, the faster the waves of grief are coming. It has been almost a year since I stood by his bedside and watched the life leave his body...and I still can't believe he's gone. I keep expecting to plan the next time we meet for lunch or schedule the next dinner with the folks and it's never going to happen. The finality of that reality is staggering. I had one of those moments last night when I forgot for just a second that I couldn't call him and chat. I had some exciting news to share and I wanted to tell him. It felt like a punch in the stomach when I realized, again...not going to happen.

I'm so angry again, angry about the senseless way he died. It wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be ok. We all believed that...especially Tyler.

Tomorrow is my birthday. It's my 40th. Last year Tyler gave me a birthday card the morning he went into the hospital for surgery. He was even able to mouth "happy birthday" to me on my birthday, four days after the surgery. It's amazing to me (in the worst sense of the word) that I won't get that card this year. Both of my parents expressed the same grief on their birthdays this year. Of course I understood it at the time, but I really get it now.

I miss you so very much, Ty...I can't even put it into words. There are no words. I love you.

Weighing heavily on my mind

2009-10-11T20:16:00.000-07:00

It was a year ago yesterday that I got the call from my mother telling me that Tyler was in the hospital. She said he had collapsed at work and had some sort of seizure. The MRI taken after that episode showed that he had a brain tumor at the base of his brain. Anyone reading this blog knows the rest of the story. I still can't believe how it ended. I went out with a co-worker/friend after work that night and we drank...we toasted to Tyler. On my way home I broke down like I never had before in my entire life. It was a primal wailing I had never experienced. I remember calling Martine at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning (she was in Chicago at the time) and crying to her over a crackling cell phone connection. In some ways I think I knew that night that it was going to end badly. I don't know how I knew; it was just a feeling I had deep in my soul. I spoke with Tyler the next day and he tried to reassure me that it would all be ok. It helped a little at the time.

The chill in the air, the leaves changing color and falling to the ground, the signs of Fall, they all remind me of that time we spent here last year. We came into Indy the first time to spend a week with Tyler before his surgery. I am very grateful for that week. I only wish I had spent more of it with him. I'm glad he got to meet the woman I'm going to marry. I only wish he could be there to witness it...to stand up with me.

The photo on this post is from March of this year. We took a trip to Sedona, Arizona to spread Tyler's ashes. That's exactly what I'm doing in this picture. It took close to an hour for me to actually open the container and release him into the wind. For a long time I just stood there, holding the container close to me. I think we all expected to feel a sense of closure after that experience, but I didn't. It was another part of the elusive grieving process, but I'm not sure I will ever find closure in this loss.

Losing Tyler will be weighing heavily on my mind over the next couple of week, as the first anniversary of his death approaches. I still can't believe he's gone...

I miss you, baby brother.

I wish he were here...

2009-08-05T16:20:00.000-07:00

He's always with me in my heart and never far from my thoughts. Martine and I were walking around the outside of a beautiful old house today. It's near downtown Indianapolis and it's priced right, but it needs a lot of work. Tyler would have been able to help us determine if it's too much work. He would have been able to help us do the work. He would have loved it!! He actually might have beat us to it if he were still...here.

We peered into the windows and immediately saw the potential of this 4,200 square foot gem, built in 1901. It has beautiful woodwork that is just begging for a little TLC. There's a fantastic screened-in porch off the back of the house and I could see us sitting out there with a group of friends on a warm summer evening. I could see us out there with our coffee and newspaper on a lazy Sunday morning. I could see us creating the home we both crave and building a life there. I could also see us making it beautiful and selling it for a massive profit. Either way, I can see it clearly. Unfortunately, part of my vision included Tyler working on it with us. He was there showing us how to do the things we don't know how to do, he was there leveling out the back deck and making it sturdy and beautiful again, he was there sharing the dream with us...laughing with us. I'm always going to miss that laugh, that smile, that warm voice, that hug. It's really hard to think about taking on a project like this without him, one that would have been so right up his alley. I can only hope that he will watch over us and guide our hands as we transform the run-down and neglected into the beauty we both envision. Listen to me; you'd think we'd already bought the place...

Anger, sadness, missing...

2009-07-20T17:25:00.000-07:00

This is kind of a weird picture, I know. It was a picture of Tyler with some of his friends. I don't mean any offense to anyone by erasing, or cropping, them out in Photoshop; I just wanted to put up this picture of Tyler. He's been weighing heavily on my mind over the last couple of days and we had a long conversation today with a friend who is a nurse. We had never told her what happened after he went into the hospital for surgery. All she knew was that he went in and never left. It brought up a swirl of emotions that have been...resting...for a while. We told Sherry and Lisa the story about what happened and I got angry again. I'm angry in general for losing him far too soon, but when I talk about to possibility that it was a doctor's negligence that ultimately caused his death, I get REALLY angry.

Martine and I have been talking lately about possibly buying a fixer-upper house and spending some time working on it, making it pretty, making it a reflection of us...making it ours. This is something Tyler could have helped us do and he would have enjoyed doing it. It makes me really sad that we won't have the pleasure of his company, and the addition of his skills and ideas. It makes me sad that he won't be standing up with me when Martine and I get married.

We were riding a bike trail today near Lockport, Illinois and I saw passed a sign that had his name on it. Like I said, he's been very present the past couple of days and I felt the need to write about it.

My little brother, my friend, my confidant, my rock...he was taken from me too soon. I'm angry; I'm pissed; I shake my head in disbelief every time I think about it. It's not fair. I know life isn't fair, but this really takes the cake...

Peace on ya.

Written in stone

2009-06-16T17:22:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it has been a month since I've written on this blog. Obviously I still think about him every day and I still see him everywhere I go. Today I walked down the hall to hang up some towels and I glanced into the last room he slept in before going into the hospital. The reaction was instantaneous...tears. I woke up this morning shaking from a dream I was having about him. I guess it was more of a flashback of me standing over him, sobbing, watching him die before my eyes and not being able to do anything to stop it.

I STILL have trouble uttering, or even thinking, the words "my brother died." We walked through Hope Cemetery when we were in Vermont. There were a lot of amazing statues and elaborately carved headstones...and then there was this one. It said "TYLER" across the middle of it. By that point I was already overwhelmed by the feeling of death all around me and it's even more poignant now that Tyler is gone. I'm over-sensitive to the subject of death. Actually, I'm overly sensitive in general...I think. There it was in front of me...TYLER...carved in stone. Gone from my world. It's still unbelievable to me.

He's everywhere

2009-05-14T21:45:00.000-07:00

I have a matted, framed photo of Tyler that I wanted to put up in the van somewhere. There just wasn't an easy way to do that with it in the heavy frame, so I had to take it out. Doing that made me cry. Before we pulled out of the driveway on Saturday, I used velcro tabs to stick the photo to the ceiling of the van. I want to be able to look up and see him at any moment...to know he's there with us on the road. I know he's always in my heart, but I always stumble across little reminders too. This photo was taken at the world famous (ha ha...as if) Fort Cody Trading Post in North Butte, Nebraska. This was the highlight of the store for me. Well, maybe it was the miniature old west show...ummm, no.

I had a dream about him the other night too. I thought about posting the details here, but I've decided to keep them to myself. The jist was that he was injured and I was taking him to the hospital to get him fixed. In the dream, he seemed fine and there seemed to be no rush to get him there. When I woke up, I had a moment of panic and I thought 'if only I would have hurried and got him there faster...'

It was very strange.

I miss him...even though he's everywhere.

Fading in...

2009-05-03T09:41:00.000-07:00

Time allows for distraction and distraction is good...I think. I haven't spent as much time dwelling on the loss of Tyler. I haven't really had the brain space lately. Sometimes I think that's a good thing, but the grief still creeps in when I least expect it. The other morning I awoke abruptly because I had an image of Tyler in the hospital the night he died. The image started as just white space and slowly sharpened into full color. I want to say it "faded" in, but the word fade usually implies leaving or dissipating, like that night in the hospital when Tyler faded away from us. I watched his face go from red to pink to blue to white. That's the image I saw on that recent morning as I was just barely on the edge of consciousness. It startled me awake and I sat up. The feeling was that of shock and disbelief. I still have many moments when I can't believe he's really gone. It can't be...it just can't be. I cried on and off all day. I just couldn't shake the cloak of grief that was draped over my shoulders. It's always there; sometimes it hangs in the closet, waiting for me to wear it again.

The video...

2009-04-04T13:23:00.000-07:00

Here it is, as promised. This is a video of us spreading Tyler's ashes at Boynton Canyon in Sedona, Arizona. Martine spent a good chunk of time putting it together and I think it's just beautiful. Makes me cry every time I see it. I picked the Patty Griffin song "Up To The Mountain" because it seemed like it would be a good fit...and it is.

I love you, Tyler.

Grief and missing

2009-04-01T23:50:00.000-07:00

This was the view out the car window as we were driving down to Indianapolis from Chicago last Thursday evening. The sunset was quite beautiful and it made me think of Tyler. The last time I had been in Indy was November of last year. I had some weird emotional things going on during this trip which I now attribute mostly to sideways grief. I was focused on the shows I would be playing with Martine in Fort Wayne and Indianapolis, so the events of my previous visit were only milling around in the back of my mind. Being back in the city where I had watched Tyler die was difficult. I suppose I should have expected that. It probably would have been smart to address the grief and process it a little while I was there. Now it's kind of coming out in spurts.

Today I removed Tyler from the beneficiary list on my IRA. He was the primary beneficiary and I had forgotten about it. As I pressed the backspace key, removing one letter at a time, I felt the grief well up again. I still want to scream out to the universe, "what the hell happened?!?!??" I wonder if that will ever go away.

We will be spending a lot more time in Indy over the next few months. I need to find a way to get in touch with the grief I now associate with that place and face it. I don't want it coming out sideways. My life is about to change drastically again and I'm really excited about it!!! I know Tyler would be excited for me. I miss not being able to tell him things, face-to-face.

Random thoughts of grief and missing on this first day of April.

It's where he wanted to be...

2009-03-19T23:44:00.000-07:00

This is me sitting on top of a beautiful red rock in Boynton Canyon (Sedona, Arizona) with the tin containing Tyler's ashes resting on my knee. Sunday, March 15, 2009, me and 10 other family members hiked up the Boynton Canyon Trail with the intention of releasing his ashes. When this photo was taken, we were all sitting, waiting for the right moment to set him free. That day was particularly hard for me, as it felt like saying goodbye all over again. All the emotions came back up to the surface. I felt like I did the day he died, and I kept seeing his face and how it looked that night in the hospital as the life left his body. It STILL doesn't seem real to me. I can sit here right now and think about the fact that I will never see him again, and it just doesn't seem possible. I cried twice in the car on the way to Sedona. I cried as I was hiking up the canyon with his ashes in my backpack. I cried as I sat on this rock, contemplating what I was about to do. 'It's where he wanted to be...," I thought to myself. He wanted to be in Arizona.

We picked Sedona for it's amazing beauty and energy, and we picked Boynton Canyon because it's the location of an energy vortex. There are 4 in Sedona. It seemed like a good final resting place for what remained of his physical being. After sitting and standing in various spots on the big red rock, I decided it was too crowded with hikers and went around to the other side of it. Everyone followed. I went out on to a flat rocky ledge with my mom and dad behind me. I could hear them crying and it broke my heart...again. My dad read aloud a quote from Tyler, "My 'church' is beside a river in the middle of a forest, or the desert at sunrise/sunset. ‘God’ talks to me when the wind blows across my body and I close my eyes, or when it starts to rain and the sounds from that fill the air." I removed the bag of ashes from the tin, tested the wind, and in three or four motions, I emptied the bag into the wind.

Martine got the whole thing on video and I will be posting that on this blog at some point. I know some of you wanted to be there and could not, so hopefully the video will make you feel like you were a part of it.

I hope he is happy with the view. It was beautiful, as was the day, as is his spirit.

Tyler - You are always with me, always in my heart, always on my mind, forever a part of my soul. I love you.

An honor to be with you...for eternity!

2009-03-05T21:30:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't know, this is Tyler with Connor and Suzanne Spellman. Tyler was Suzanne's birthing coach when she had Connor, and he was a significant person in both of their lives. In many ways he was a father figure to Connor. After Tyler passed away, Connor came to me with a picture taken the day he was born. It was of Tyler wearing a baseball cap with the word "COACH" embroidered across the front of it. Connor wanted to know if I would get the cap for him, so he could have it to keep. My heart broke again in that moment. Of course; Tyler would have wanted Connor to have that cap. My guess is he will always have it, just as he will always have his memories of Tyler.

The following letter was written yesterday by Suzanne and, with her permission, I'm now sharing it with the readers of this blog...

Thank you for listening to me tonight.
Thank you for letting me talk.
Thank you for letting me cry.

I am sorry that I never showed you daily how much you meant to me.
How much you meant to my daily being.
You were the first person that I thought of with triumph and tragedy.
The first person I shared my joys and tears with.
Our late night talks on the front porch or the early morning texts as we passed each other on the road.

I should have told you that you were the one for life on Sunday 10/19/08.
I should have kissed you as if tomorrow would never come.
Turns out, it didn't for us!

I am so sad for the people that will never experience YOU!
Your strength, your wisdom, your humor, your presence.

I have not changed who I am or how I am through all the tragedies and triumphs.
Am I cold? Am I weak? Am I scared?
Or did you take part of my soul with you?

I am realizing that I am not angry or sad or depressed (as many may think) while writing this.
I am happy, relieved and honored that you took a part of me to hold on to....
For eternity!

(Though I don't need to justify or explain what I have written, I must say that I am still sad, still angry for losing Tyler so quickly, so prematurely. But the empty/hollow/aching pain inside of me that burns/screams/festers daily can only be explained by knowing/hoping/wishing that Tyler needed to take a part of me with him. That he felt/understood/knew how much he truly meant to me/my son/my family)

2009-03-02T23:45:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've been to this place. When I say 'this place' I'm not referring to the lovely scene behind Tyler in this photo. Although it seems like a nice place to be, especially if I could find him sitting there waiting for me. The place to which I am referring is the place of sorrow and devastation. In the time it took me to upload this photo and write those first four sentences, I've been reduced to a blubbering mess. That is what happens when I visit this place. I've been really busy going on with my life and it's going really, really well. I've very excited about the things I'm doing and the things yet to come. I know Tyler would be excited for me too. He would want me to be busy creating the life I want and enjoying every minute.

That's all well and good, but the truth is I just want him to be here so I can tell him everything. I had a dream last night and he was there. That's not so unusual, but in this particular dream he was there because he had come back to life. Everyone else in the dream was acting like that was normal, as if his death had never occurred. I was the only one who was confused about where he came from and how... Even he was looking at me like he was surprised by my reaction. I don't know what the dream means, but I felt like writing it down. Maybe the timing of the dream has something to do with the fact that we planned a date for spreading Tyler's ashes and it happens to be two weeks from yesterday. Maybe it means I've neglected my grieving process because I've been busy with so many other things. Maybe it's random. I don't know.

I miss you, Tyler. I wish my dream could be real.

Never Forgotten

2009-02-10T22:20:00.000-08:00

I love how gorgeous Tyler looks in this photo. I was so sure I had posted it before, but I flipped through almost all of my previous posts and I didn't find it. That was hard too...going through the previous posts. When I got to the end, a.k.a. the beginning, Tyler was still alive and desperately wanting to get out of his hospital bed. He wanted to go home. I've said this a bazillion times, but I still can't believe he never left that hospital. He never even left the ICU.

I know I haven't been writing on this blog as much and I know some of you are disappointed. This started out as a way for me to communicate updates on Tyler's condition to friends and family, and after he died, it morphed into a form of grief therapy for me and those who read it. I've loved writing it and probably will continue to makes posts from time to time, but I don't know how often. It will happen when I feel the need to write about it and share those thoughts with others. I'm sorry if this is a let down to anyone, but grief is a living, breathing thing and it evolves. My grief over losing Tyler will always be with me...always...but it will change over time. That doesn't mean that I'm forgetting him. I still think about him daily. I still miss him just as much as I did on the first day he was no longer physically part of my world.

Today Martine and I were rearranging things in the closet and I found two t-shirts of Tyler's that I had kept. One I had given him just this past August. I had bought it for him when I was out on Catalina Island with some friends. I clutched both shirts tightly in my arms for a few seconds and then I cried. My tears over the loss of Tyler will always flow freely. I have felt no greater pain in my lifetime and the scars run deep, to the very core of my soul.

Life and Death

2009-02-03T22:46:00.000-08:00

This photo was taken by Tyler's good friend, Ruth Quinde. She said it made her think of him. A lot of things make me think of him, especially now. Today I got a copy of his death certificate in the mail and I cried. It's not getting any easier to accept the fact that he's gone. Standing there holding, reading a tangible, black and white reminder of his death makes it even harder.

This photo shows the birth of a new day, yet I'm talking about death. How very strange, eh?

I miss him...

An unexpected connection

2009-01-30T22:51:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken the week before Tyler had surgery. It may have even been the day before. I can't remember now. The pictures taken on that day are sometimes harder to look at than any other pictures I have of Tyler. (The ones of him as a small child are a close second though.) I think back to how I felt during that week. I was nervous but very optimistic. Somehow being around him, and being around all the other mostly hopeful family members, made me think it would all turn out fine. The night I found out about his tumor I was at work. I think I was in shock after the phone call from my mom. I went out with a friend after work and we toasted to Tyler with a shot of tequila. When I got home, I completely lost my composure. Actually, I think I lost it in the car on the way home. I cried harder that night than I ever have...at least up until that point in my life. I just had a really bad gut feeling that night. Little did I know just how accurate that feeling was.

I found an old friend or family friend, or...well, I'm not sure what to call him. We recently reconnected on Facebook and he sent me a message about Tyler. He had lost his sister in 2007 and he had the same kind of relationship with her that I had with Tyler. He said, "She was the closest person to me on the planet from whose loss I will never recover in this lifetime. That closeness was evident to anyone who had the privilege of spending 1 minute around you and Tyler together. So I figure if there's anyone that can feel my pain it would be you. I send you love, and and open offering of anything I can do to help. If nothing else I lend my ear if at anytime you just need someone to listen." He also said, "Your brother was a wonderful, wonderful man with whom I've never had one ill moment, and whose company I enjoyed immensely." Reading his message made me cry. It was nice to connect with someone who knows exactly what I'm feeling. If you're reading this blog, you know who you are and I thank you for reaching out.

I want to send out many thanks again to my friends and family for their continued support. It means the world to me. You know who you are!!!

2009-01-25T23:04:00.000-08:00

This was taken in Edmonton, Alberta in August 2008. We were standing our grandmother's backyard reminiscing about the times we played out there as kids. Still kids at heart, we joked with each other the same way we had for years. The picture isn't great of either one of us, but I love it for the closeness it shows.

I was sitting here listening to the rain fall, not a common occurrence here in Burbank, and I remembered sitting on my grandmother's front porch with Tyler. That's what made me want to write a 'Tyler' blog post. I know I've written about that day before. It was the first day we arrived in Edmonton and I was so excited about the possibility of rain showers. Tyler was used to them, as they are a lot more frequent in Indianapolis, but he still sat out on the porch with me to experience it. I've said this before too...I am so grateful for that trip.

Some days I wish I could turn back the clock. I want to go back and tell Tyler about the tumor in the back of his head. I want to go back far enough so I can tell him about before it gets too big. Then maybe they could have removed it without incident. Then maybe it could have been as simple as taking out a wisdom tooth. If I only I could go back, I would do anything to change the final outcome. Anything...

Happy Birthday, Ty

2009-01-21T22:10:00.000-08:00

Today we went on a hike to celebrate Tyler's birthday and to pay homage to his too short life of 36 years. He had such a major impact on so many lives, and he was admired and loved by all of them. He would have been 37 today...

This was one of the views from the top of the very steep climb. We sat for a while and took in the sounds. The wind, the birds, and the beautiful sound of silence. I walked over to one side and took this photo. I had put a small portion of Tyler's ashes in a little baggie and I had it tightly clenched in my hand. It took me a few minutes to convince myself that I had brought it with me to leave it behind and I needed to let it go. I inched down the side of the hill a little and stood still again for a time, holding the little baggie in my palm. I opened it and held it in my hand for another minute or two. Then I took it by the bottom edge and, with a sweeping motion, I scattered the contents out in front of me. At precisely that moment I looked up and there were two hawks soaring directly above my head. One of them called out and the sound echoed against the hills. My breath caught in my throat. I had asked Tyler to give me a sign of his presence and I knew that was it. He knew that would get my attention. I had been crying before that moment, but seeing the hawks circling above me brought more tears. I was instantly filled up with his energy and I smiled up at the sky. I remember pointing out hawks to him on many occasions. He teased me about my fascination at first, but then he came to appreciate my affinity for them. After a while I think he started to look for them himself.

Thank you to everyone who lit their candles and sent Tyler birthday wishes today. I did light a candle later. I let it burn while I was getting ready for work. I imagined it on a birthday cake and when I blew it out I said, 'Happy Birthday, Ty.'

Bye, bye. Don't let the shoe hit you in the head...

2009-01-20T21:01:00.000-08:00

Hey Ty! Did you see it? Did you see his final wave to the crowd as he boarded the helicopter and flew off to unpresidentialness land? I hope you could be a witness to this historic day on some level. I know you waited a long time to see him go. We have hope that our new president will create the change we need too see in this country. I also hope he's having a stiff drink right now because he's got his work cut out for him. I wish you could have been here in earthly form to see the inauguration. I thought about how happy you would be watching it all go down.

Sayonara, George W. I wish I could say the shoe hit you on the way out, but alas, it did not. Hopefully you will be held karmically responsible for all the damage you've done to this country. Can you see to that, Ty? ;-)

Happy early birthday, little brother. The shrub has been weeded from our government garden.

Light a candle, or...

2009-01-20T00:26:00.000-08:00

Tyler's birthday is January 21st. He would have turned 37 this year. It breaks my heart every time I think about it and the tears come instantly. I was getting ready for work today and I had to choke back a sob that spontaneously came out of me. I know I've said this a million times, but I still can't believe he's gone. I came across some photos of me on Facebook that Tyler had added and tagged. He had put captions on a lot of them and that made me laugh. Some of the pictures even had comments on them where we had made smart ass remarks to each other about the content. That made me cry. I sit here now and shake my head in disbelief. How did this happen? I'll never know, but I'll continue to ask.

To celebrate Tyler's life on his birthday, my mom and step-dad came up with an idea to light a candle and let it burn down until it goes out on its own. They are asking friends and family to do the same. Their candle will be lit at about 5pm Indiana time. That's 2pm on the West coast, 3pm in Phoenix and Edmonton, 4pm in Chicago...you can figure out the rest from there. If this is something you want to do, I encourage you to do it. I'm not sure lighting a candle is the right thing for me. I mean no offense to my parents, or anyone else, by saying that. Tyler's memory burns strong in my heart and it will never be extinguished. I just don't think I can light a candle and watch it burn out. It's too symbolic of what is gone, not what remains. I am planning my own ceremony of sorts, with Martine. We're going to hike up to the top of a hill that overlooks the San Fernando Valley. Some would call it a mountain, but I've been told by the locals that it's just a hill. Believe me, it feels like a mountain when I'm hiking to the top. Tyler will be with me as I trudge up that steep incline. I'm not sure what that trek will hold for me when I get to the top, but it will bring me symbolically closer to him. That's where I want to be on that day of his birth.

Whether you decide to light a candle, hike to the top of a mountain, or come up with your own way of remembering Tyler's birthday, I thank you for loving him and honoring him with your memories.

A fierce love

2009-01-14T21:45:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken in October of 2006. A group of us went to The Melting Pot for my birthday dinner. I moved out of Indy less than a month later and I haven't spent much time looking back. I miss some things about it. Now I miss the time I could have had with Tyler if I hadn't moved away, but it was a good move for me. I always thought there would be more time. We went to The Melting Pot again for my birthday this year. We were in Indy for Tyler's surgery. The mood wasn't as celebratory as it had been two years prior, but that night we still had hope. That day Tyler had mouthed 'Happy Birthday' and 'I love you' to me from his ICU bed. None of us had any idea of what was to come...

Martine and I were watching Oprah today. I was sort of watching as I did other things around the apartment. I was listening to the story of a couple who had lost one of their sons in a tragic accident. He was only 20 and he was only thirty minutes from the airport when it happened. He was supposed to board a plane that would take him home and he never made it. Instantly I felt for them. I would have felt for them had I heard their story a year ago, but today I felt it on a whole new level. I was listening to them talk about how the experience of losing their son had changed them forever. The mother said something that really struck me. She said your grief over the loss of a loved one is a testament to how much you loved that person. It will always be with you should be worn like a badge. I could relate to everything they said and, in a way, it felt good. I have a great support system, but some days I feel alone in my grief. Listening to them reminded me that I am no alone.

I also got an email from my mom today. It made me sad for her and what she is going through. I've talked before about how my grief is different from that of my parents, but it's also the same in many ways. We all loved Tyler very much and he loved all of us with a fierce love. We all need to know that and burn it into our memories, so it is always with us. No doubts and no regrets.

Grief is a living, breathing entity. It is always moving and evolving. The one thing that remains constant is its presence. It may lessen with time, but it will always be there.

Random, but not really...

2009-01-12T23:17:00.000-08:00

I laugh every time I see this photo and I see it every day. It's on our photo wall at home. Tyler put on a good 'ick' act, but I know better. He loved those sisterly kisses on his scruffy cheek. Even when we got angry with each other, it would never last long. We relied on each other too much for love and support to let anything come between us.

Last night I'm sitting at dinner with my love. We had just come off of a day in the recording studio and a 6 mile bike ride. We're drinking margaritas and sharing a tostada, and talking about our trip to Australia toward the end of this year. It was an exciting conversation, full of adventures yet to come. I was gazing at her, taking in the external and internal beauty I see every time, and I thought about Tyler. It was one of those moments when I had a fleeting thought about sharing my excitement with him. Telling him about the trip we're planning, telling him about the other adventures we've been discussing, telling him about her and how much she means to me. I started to get tears in my eyes and she asked me what was going on. I didn't tell her about it in that moment. She smiled and grumbled, and told me how difficult it is to get things out of me sometimes. The problem was I knew if I talked about it, I wouldn't be able to stop the flood. I didn't want to cry...in that moment.

Later in the evening we were watching a television show. There was a character who worked in a hospital and they thought he had a brain tumor. Turns out it was only scar tissue, but seeing the hospital setting and hearing the words 'brain tumor' was enough to bring the tears again. This time and let them fall, just for a minute. She knew without me saying it outloud. It was one of those random, but not really...moments.

The images, like lightning

2009-01-08T22:56:00.000-08:00

This is Tyler at 15 months, according to the scrawl at the top of the photo. So beautiful. By the time he was this age, I think I was over the issue I had when he was first born. Those of you who have younger siblings may already know what I'm talking about. It's the feeling that you have to compete for your parents' affections and attention. You glare at your younger, seemingly cuter, sibling, with tiny daggers when your parents aren't looking. Obviously I got through that phase. My baby brother became one of the most important people in my world. He still is...even though he is now gone from my physical world.

The waves of grief have been coming more frequently over the past few days. I have images of him jumping into my head without warning. There's no trigger; they just appear like a flash of lightning. Some make me laugh, some make me smile, some make me sick to my stomach, but they all make me cry. Last night on my way home from work, I got an image of him, of his face, the way it looked the moment he died. I don't know why it came to me. Though his pallor was beyond white, he looked at peace, much like he does in this photo. I cried as I drove and I started talking to him, out loud. I think that was the first time I've done that since he passed away. I was telling him about how people keep telling me to talk to him, but that I hadn't quite figured out how to do that... Then I realized I was doing it and I had to chuckle in spite of myself.

I miss him.

I never imagined

2009-01-05T21:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Tyler,

I never imagined that grieving the loss of you would be so complex, but then again...I never imagined that I would lose you. I still have trouble believing it really happened and I'll never understand why. I can only think that maybe you were meant for bigger and better things in some alternate existence. Is that true?

So, I acted a fool again last night and I am ashamed. I apologized to everyone who was in range when my meltdown occurred, multiple times to the one who matters most, but I don't really feel better about it. I've been told by many people today not to beat myself up and to go easy on myself. Of course no one is harder on me than I am. We're always our own worst critic, right? I know you were a witness to that many times and you talked me down many times. I wish I could talk to you now. I guess I am talking to you, but I wish I could hear you talk back. I want you to tell me I am strong and I will get through this. I want you to say quit acting a fool, fool!! I'm laughing now because I can hear you quoting Eddie Murphy..."Yeah, Foo, retire!" Damn, we could rattle off movie quotes for days, couldn't we? I digress. I've been introspective all day, trying to figure myself out. Remember Thanksgiving 2007 when you made me promise you I would find a counselor when I got back to California? Thank you for doing that. It did help. I think I may need to do it again for a while. What do you think? Waiting...take your time...I know; I probably don't even need to ask. I just need to do it.

So, what is that you just said? Oh...you can't believe I put this picture up?! I know, it screams 80s, but it also shows how much we care about each other. That's what I like about it. I know you can't believe you were wearing that sweater. Will you look at mine?!?! What's up with the sleeveless sweatshirt look? I just need to pull it down off one shoulder. "She's a Maniac, Manic..." I digress again.

Thanks for listening, Ty. I've been told by many people that I should talk to you. I'm not sure if I've figured out how to do that yet, but this is a start. You were my knight in shining armor on many occasions. Thank you for always looking out for me. I miss you and I love you.

Always,
D

Goodbye 2008 and Hello 2009!!

2008-12-31T10:53:00.000-08:00

This picture made me laugh hard. This 'pursed lips' face is a look Tyler and I often gave each other. I think I started it, but he picked it up quickly...and no, it has nothing to do with "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis??" The other thing I noticed about this photo is the fact that his eyes are closed just a little too much. That feature is not part of the true 'pursed lips' face. The eyes should be squinty, but not to this degree. I think in this case the problem is a direct result of the amount of libation consumed. After all, this was taken on some New Year's Eve. Given the fact that Ty is wearing that hat and the rainbow lei, I'd say the party was well underway and he was well into that bottle of...whatever it was.

2008 was quite a year for many of us. For me it was full of extreme lows and extreme highs. I started the year in a depression, feeling fairly lost in my world. After some work on myself, I finally found my groove with living here in Southern California. I had a short-lived relationship that taught me many lessons about what I don't want in a relationship. I met some 'friends' who taught me about what friendship is not and I made some really good friends. I fell in love with my sweetheart and I continue to fall deeper every day. She is definitely the highest of my highs this year. I also found out that my brother, my best friend, had a tumor at the base of his brain and I lost him in less than a month from that moment. None of us thought for a second that it would end that way. For that reason alone, I say good riddance to 2008! I am forever changed by the experience of losing Tyler. There is a permanent scar on my heart and soul. All I can do is keep going, live the best life I can, be the best person I can, treat others with respect and hope for the same in return. I see big changes for me in 2009; exciting opportunities. Some will be created by me and some will find me if I open myself to them. I'll always be thinking of Tyler and how he supported me, how proud of me he was. I want to continue to make you proud, little brother. I just wish you could be here with me, in the physical realm. Keep watching...there are great things to come!

Random...

2008-12-28T21:03:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken back in the early 90s. I'm not sure where it was taken, but it was Tyler's friend, Mike, who pulled it from the archives. I think it's cool in a 'I look like a young Harry Connick Jr.' kind of way. I'm not too keen on the cigarette in his hand, but I too was a smoker, once upon a time. It's not a very attractive habit, but highly addictive. I digress...I didn't come here to talk about the dangers of smoking and I'm not after the Surgeon General's job.

I don't have anything in particular to say tonight. I really just wanted to share this photo. I miss my baby brother. Today I was thinking about how sad I am that he won't get to experience 2009. I think it will be a year full of possibilities for me, and I hate that I won't be able to share the joys and the frustrations with him. I'm sad that he won't be turning 37 on January 21st. He will forever be 36 in my mind. I won't get to see him get married, have children and grow old gracefully. I know I will want to do something that day to celebrate his life and I hope somehow, on some level, he will be a witness to that.

Peace and love, brother of mine.

A moment

2008-12-27T12:09:00.000-08:00

This is another picture from Christmas 2007. Tyler had been recording video on his little point-and-shoot camera and we were looking at it. At the time, it was just a goofy thing we were doing for entertainment between hanging ornaments on the tree and taking sips of wine. I found those videos on his computer after he passed and they are now very precious to me. It's funny that something could seem so trivial in one moment, and then later become so significant it reduces me to rubble in an instant.

I had another moment like that last night. My love and I were watching The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. There's a scene toward the end where Peter has a sword fight with the evil king in an attempt to avoid a full-on battle between their armies. At one point they take a break from their fight and Peter is talking with his brother Edmund. He is trying to tell Edmund something just in case he doesn't emerge as the victor, and Edmund cuts him off and says, "You can tell me later." He then sends Peter back into the fight, confident that he will win. This moment was huge trigger for me and I started to cry. It reminded me of the morning of Tyler's surgery. He was telling me things he wanted me to know just in case he didn't make it through the surgery. I told him it wouldn't matter because he would be fine. I was so sure he would emerge as the victor in his fight. I know I said I had no regrets regarding him, but I guess I found one. Obviously I had no way of knowing the final outcome...and I know that. In hindsight I wish I'd let him finish. I wish I'd remained silent and listened to him talk.

Christmas 2008

2008-12-25T22:13:00.000-08:00

I wish I could say this photo was taken today. This was taken about 3 days before Christmas last year. I found it on my Dad's computer tonight and decided to share it with you. I love the warm tone of the photo and the memory of the warmth of Tyler's arm around my shoulder.

We had our holiday gathering at Dad and Ginny's house this year and a good time was had by all...all 45 of us!! We had good wine, LOTS of good food, good coversation...more wine. Martine, Ali, Chuck and I sang a few songs for the group, and everyone joined us in a few carols as well. We all missed Mabel, Katherine, Larry and Tyler very much, but I know there were with us today. I imagined giving them each a hug and a smile as they arrived. I imagined hanging on to Tyler and giving him a big kiss on the cheek as he groaned in mock disgust. It was all nice to imagine, but it's not as good as the real thing. The missing will always be there, but they are forever with us, in our hearts.

What I've lost...

2008-12-24T03:00:00.000-08:00

This is Tyler at the corner of Oregon and Indiana Streets. It's quite humorous considering we were both born in Portland, Oregon and then, at the ages of 12 and 10, we were forced to move to Indiana. (It was traumatic, to say the least!) :-) Tyler sent this photo to his friend, Mike, one summer when he was staying with our dad in Oregon. Mike recently resurrected it and posted it on Flickr for the world to see. No, the Mercedes didn't belong to him...it was our dad's car.

Tonight I was going through a keepsake box that I had in the closet. I bought a new photo box and I wanted to relocate the memories from one box to the other. I found some cards that Tyler had given me for my birthdays or for Christmas over the years. I also found some photos of him that I had not seen in a while. Needless to say, I cried my eyes out.

I found a birthday card that I wanted to share it with you. I won't bore you with the canned Hallmark verbage. The following is what Tyler wrote....

"I have all sorts of ideas of what to get you for your birthday. The thing that sucks is I can't afford any of them. No pity, please. So, I figured money to get what you want was the best idea. Well another year has gone by and I am still 'giddy' like a little boy to have a big sister like you. I just hope that, in this lifetime, I can be there for your as many times as you've been there for me. Not that I feel I owe you; I just want you to feel as special as I do to have you."

You were there for me, Tyler, any time I needed you. I do feel special and very lucky to have had a brother like you. Your card reminds me of just how much I've lost.

The Right Path

2008-12-22T21:47:00.000-08:00

The engraving on this ornament is a little hard to read, but most of you can probably make it out. For those who can't, I know a good Optometrist...just kidding, of course. It reads "Tyler 2001." I had been playing with the settings on my camera phone and took this photo at some point during my experimentation. Someone said to me that it looks like it's all washed in gold, or something to that effect. I can't remember the exact words, but what a great description. We decorated the Christmas tree at my dad and Ginny's house on Saturday night. At one point I left the room to answer the call of nature and when I returned, my dad was holding this ornament. He wanted me to hang it on the tree. I remember handing the same ornament to Tyler last year and then we each put our own 2001 engraved ornament on the tree. This year I had to hang them both. The sadness is often overwhelming and this was one of those moments when it literally took my breath.

My emotions were all over the map this weekend. Last night it came to a head when I behaved like an ass to someone I love deeply. It was a moment, yes, and we all have moments of shitheadedness, but that is still no excuse. I know some of my past experiences have influenced the way I react to things in the present. I think that's inevitable. We are made up of a fabric, woven from our experiences. However, some of that is old, ugly stuff that we should never wear again. Stuff that needs to be left behind at some random airport or dropped off at the nearest Good Will. I only want to carry forward the important lessons and the growth...the things that fit well and look good on me. At this point in my life I am more aware than ever when I'm being influenced by something that doesn't belong. I see that as progress and positive growth. I do wonder how much my grief over Tyler is an influence on my interactions with the people around me. Losing him has shaken me to my core. I will never be the same and I will never fully stop grieving, but I want to be a better person. I don't want to be an icky, bitter person. Tyler wouldn't want that for me either.

I miss you, Tyler. There were many times when you helped me find my way back to the right path. I need you to keep doing that. Just smack me in the back of the head or something, would ya? Love you always...

Christmas is coming...

2008-12-19T11:18:00.000-08:00

Christmas is coming, no matter how much I try to deny it. Honestly, I just want to skip it this year. Why? One reason and one reason only...it won't look like this picture. Granted, the picture is blurry and Tyler has some serious red-eye going on, but it captures the feeling of that night. It was the Friday before Christmas, 2007. We were decorating the tree, drinking wine, joking with each other and just being together. Notice the LARGE stocking on the right; hard to miss, I know. Our mom helped Tyler make that stocking as payback to a joke we played on him. For Christmas 2006, we had hung the stockings with care, but the one we put up for Tyler was tiny. So, this HUGE stocking was his way of saying 'I'm not tiny and therefore, I will not have a tiny stocking!' We all got a big laugh out of it. Tyler always had a knack for making us laugh and forget our troubles.

I was looking at Christmas cards a few days ago, just like every year around this time, and I had another moment of realization. I wouldn't be buying a card for Tyler this year. Every year we would buy each other the sappiest brother/sister card we could find, but the great thing about it is, we always meant every word. I know I've said this before, but I'm going to miss getting that sappy card from him this year...every year. Mostly I'm going to miss having him standing next to me in front of the fire, laughing at unspoken jokes between us and toasting the great things to come.

To my brother, my friend...

Thank you for the laughter and the tears...
For the talks and the silence.
Thank you for being you and for loving me, unconditionally.
Though I miss you with every passing moment, you will always be with me...
For that, I am eternally grateful.
Happy Christmas and Merry New Year, little bro.

With every bit of a big sister's BIG love,
D

The Journey

2008-12-15T23:27:00.000-08:00

I know this picture is a little grainy and it's hard to make out the detail, but I think it captures Tyler's energy and hunger for living. Thanks to Mike White for pulling it from his archives.

Tyler died way too young. No one can dispute that. While he was alive, he lived his life to the fullest. He did many things I have yet to attempt...

Water skiing
* Well, I did try water skiing once when I was about 16. Tyler was there too. I think he was holding that little red flag up in the air every time I fell in the water. His arm got tired...
Snowboarding
* Ummmm...he was good at snowboarding because he was a skateboarding fiend in middle school. I think I'll stick to snow skiing. It seems safer to me. I don't want to break anything or kill anyone. I fear I would become a flying projectile on a snowboard.
Scuba Diving
* Tyler learned how to scuba dive when he went to Australia with the Giedt clan. Everyone went but me. I had to work. When you're assistant manager at a retail store, you don't take off the week of Christmas! We did go snorkeling when we were in Maui. That was ok, except I kept looking for SHARKS and that took away from the relaxing portion of the experience. Hmmm... maybe a submarine with a glass bottom would suit me better. ;-)
Sailing
* He went sailing through Greece and Turkey with our dad when he was in high school. I wasn't invited in this case because they know I have a bit of an issue with motion sickness. I know it was a great experience for him and I envy him that, but it probably would have left me a little green around the gills.
Whitewater Rafting
* I know Tyler did this a few times, most recently in Fiji. I'm not sure why I've never been. I love kayaking or canoeing down a lazy river...I emphasize the word LAZY. A rushing river is a whole different thing. I think I'm ready to try this adventure though.

He has been many places I have yet to see...

Paris
London
Greece
Turkey
Australia (I'm happy to say I'm GOING to see this one next year with the woman I love!)
Fiji

I've grown tremendously as an individual over the last two and a half years, but losing my baby brother has inspired me to kick it up a notch in terms of living. Life isn't something that happens as you sit back and watch it go by, although many people live that way. I did it for a time and I think Tyler did too. I made changes in my life to get out of the rut I was in and I know Tyler wanted to do the same. Unfortunately he didn't get quite get there. That makes me sad. Every day I continue my quest for a fulfilling and meaningful life, and now I take him with me on my journey. He will be with me wherever I go. That makes me smile.

A sister's ponderings

2008-12-13T00:03:00.000-08:00

This is a picture I took in Sedona, Arizona last year. I would have put up a picture of Tyler, but they are all on my hard drive at home and I'm still at work. Tyler always had an affinity for Arizona. He talked a lot about moving there. We're planning on spreading his ashes somewhere in the desert state, but haven't settled on an exact location or date yet. Hopefully that will be worked out soon. I don't really know if it's called the desert state; I just made that up. When I visit my Aunt Esther in Phoenix, it feels like the desert, but Sedona is very different. It all about the elevation, I suppose.

Today was a difficult day. I received something in the mail; something we ordered. It is the season of giving, after all. I can't really tell you what I received because...well, some people who might be receiving the forementioned something, might also be reading this blog. Anyway, this 'something' reminded me of Tyler and the flood gates opened up again. I managed to close them before I had a really good cry and that's probably not a good thing. They opened up again later, at work, also not a good thing. I was going back through my Facebook inbox. For some reason I thought maybe there was a message I should have responded to, but hadn't yet. While I was scanning through the messages, I saw Tyler's name. I opened the thread and read the messages we had written to each other between September 30th and October 5th. We were just chatting about what we had both been doing and Tyler had mentioned the possibility of needing to have sinus surgery. He was having a problem that we now know was probably related to the tumor in the back of his neck. I remember being mildly concerned about the prospect of surgey, but wanting to know more details. He told me he was going back to the doctor and that he would let me know the outcome. That was October 5th, five days before he passed out at work and was sent to the hospital. Many thoughts keep jumping into my head. Should I have encouraged him to be more proactive with the doctors? Should I have asked him more questions about the problems he was having? What more could I have done and could it have changed the final outcome??? I will never know and that's a little maddening at times.

I know there's nothing that can be done to bring him back, but I often wonder if there should be an investigation into what the hell happened? The surgery went very well and he was recovering well initially. I still have to wonder if someone screwed up somewhere along the way. This is just me channeling my ponderings into the words you're reading. Maybe I should think on it a bit more. I'll get back to you...

Spilling over and crashing down

2008-12-10T21:37:00.000-08:00

I hate to sound like a broken record, but I'm going to talk about grief again. Consider yourself warned. Stop reading now if you must........I'll wait while you close your browser......

I haven't been crying as much lately. I had been deliberately thinking about Tyler and making myself cry, but I've stopped doing that. Maybe it's temporary. Maybe it's all the distractions that happen during the holidays. Who knows? Since then I've noticed that the grief keeps welling up. It's right there, just under the surface. The slightest brush against my skin causes it to spill out all over me and potentially crash into everything around me. It doesn't take much to trigger it. I guess that means I need to be more conscious about actively grieving. I just wish I knew how to do that. Is the conscious pushing out better than the eventual building and overflow? I don't have the answers.

I finally came out of my avoidance mode regarding the impending gift-giving season and did some shopping yesterday. I guess somewhere in my mind I'm thinking if I ignore Christmas, maybe it won't come and maybe the missing won't be so present. I sat with Martine today and made Christmas cards. Again, the fact that he won't be there this year weighed heavily on my mind. Let me tell you, it takes the cheer right out of my 'ho, ho, ho.' (Sorry; I felt the need to inject a little humor in there. Tyler would have appreciated it.) I'm drinking coffee mixed with egg nog right now, trying to get into holiday mode. There's something missing though. Hmmm...maybe it needs a shot of rum or bourbon. Some spirits to bring out my holiday spirit. ;-)

I digress. Many people have told me I should continue to talk to Tyler. Some have lost loved ones and some just believe that life energy is still present in some form after the physical presence is gone. It's hard to know what is the truth. I think it's probably different for everyone. The blanket truth is black & white. In other words, there are things that are either fact or fiction. People can try to deny this kind of truth, but the fact remains. Then there's the truth we all find for ourselves in our individual journeys through life. I think each of us will continue to learn that truth until death...and maybe beyond. Part of my truth is believing that if and when I feel like talking to Tyler, he will somehow hear me. Maybe that's silly and maybe it's not. It's my choice, my truth.

He Shines...

2008-12-09T21:38:00.000-08:00

Ever since Tyler passed, I've been contacted by various people he knew who are wanting to share their 'Tyler experience' with me. There are common themes in all their stories. One is how much he loved me, his big sister. Tyler and I were very fortunate in our relationship for many reasons, but the most important was we always knew how significant we were to each other. There were never any doubts on either side. He was such an incredible source of light in my life. If you're reading this and you have siblings that you're not really close with, but you wish you could be closer, don't wait for tomorrow. Make the effort today.

Another common theme is how kind and thoughtful Tyler was. I heard from the younger brother of a good friend of mine from high school. Their family lived around the corner from us for several years. I did not know the impact Tyler had on Chris until he shared some thoughts he had after Tyler passed away. He's two years younger than Ty and we all know that can be a huge gap in high school. Chris felt like Tyler treated him as an equal, in spite of the age difference. He said Ty was both and mentor and friend. Chris has a deep passion for photography and he told me Tyler was the person who first sparked that interest. I could go on in my own words, but I think it's best to let his words take it from here...

"Whenever we would run into each other, it was like no time had passed...always joking, always laughing. You don't know how much people influence your life until you take stock of how you've become the person you are. Tyler did that for me. He really made me realize that life is so short and we have to be ourselves every minute, with no time for hate and regret. I am truly grateful that I got to know Tyler over the years. He was a unique, caring, funny and thoughtful individual."

My mom told me recently that every time she and Ron see a sunset now, they think of Tyler smiling down on them. It's a perfect analogy, really. He was a great source of beauty and light for many in life, and we continue to feel his energy and warmth long after his life faded.

Tyler and the Moon. Moons, that is...

2008-12-08T10:24:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken a few years ago at my mom and stepdad's house in Northbrook, Illinois. All the Moon women were in town from Canada. Aunt Judy, Aunt Patty and Grammy Moon. My niece and nephew, Mika and Riley, are pictured here as well. They are much older and taller now. Then of course there's me, my mom and Tyler. It's not the greatest photo. Unfortunately it seems that the orange and blue sippy cup is the focal point, but it (the photo, not the cup) tells a story of family and generations.

The night Tyler passed away, my aunts and grandmother came to say goodbye. I watched them all lean over him and whisper to him through their tears. My grandmother hugged me and said "Oh Didi, this is so horrible..." That pretty much summed up how we were all feeling. I remember my aunts both telling me they were sorry we hadn't spent more time together. I told them it happens when there's significant geographical distance involved, but the love is always there, regardless of the distance.

Tyler and I used to go to Edmonton every year to visit our grandmother. I remember walking to the 7-Eleven to get Aero bars, Coffee Crisp, Smarties...all the candy they didn't sell in the states. Then we would sit and watch Benny Hill or Monty Python and laugh as we ate our candy. We did that again in August of this year when we went to help Grandma move. Well...we didn't watch those shows, but we ate the candy. Instead of watching the tele, we sat out on the porch and watched it rain. I was excited about the rain because I hardly see it in SoCal, so Tyler obliged and joined me. We talked about life and love, and reminisced about those summers spent at Grandma's house. I'm going to miss those talks with him, but I'll laugh every time I think about us giggling over Benny Hill's slapstick antics.

The Energy of Grief

2008-12-06T22:21:00.000-08:00

I love this photo. We have a 5x7 of it up on the new 'photo wall' in the apartment. I look at it every day and think about what a beautiful man he was, inside and out. Neicco, the beagle, is pretty cute too. He doesn't seem to mind being used as a pillow. What a good dog.

Tonight we went to see "Australia" with my dad, Ginny, Jane and Sharon. It was a good movie. A little 'cheesy' at times, but a little cheese can be good for a laugh or a chin quiver. Afterward we went for a post-movie margarita and then to dinner at a Thai restaurant. We had a good time, but I became aware of something over the course of the night. Since Tyler passed away, when I'm around my dad or my mom, the void Tyler left behind feels even bigger. I didn't think that was possible, but it's true. I don't know if it's the sadness I see in my dad's eyes, the devastation I hear in my mom's voice, or something to do with the combining of our individual grief energy when I interact with either one of them. Of course I still want to spend time with them; I think it's very important that we support each other through the grieving. I love them and my step-parents very much. My realization in no way means that I don't want to be around them. It's just something I observed, or felt, or...experienced. Maybe it's just me being more aware of my grief in the presence of my parents. I'm not sure I can explain it any better than that.

I miss you more every day, Ty. I know our parents (all four of them) do too. Each of us is floundering around, trying to cope with losing you. Writing this blog is part of my process. The other parts? Who knows. I'm making those up as I go along. It has been a month since you left us and it still hurts like hell. If you have any brotherly advice for me, send it along. I'll be listening...

The Goof and His Words

2008-12-05T10:06:00.000-08:00

This was taken at a Sallie Mae Christmas party. Of course Tyler was being his usual goofy self. I wasn't at this party, but I've been to many like it. There would be food, drink, general merriment and a white elephant gift exchange. Usually that means everyone brings a gift with a monetary value of no more than $15.00 and it has to be something that NOBODY would ever want! Then you draw numbers to determine the order in which people get to choose a gift. Any gift in your possession can be stolen by anyone with a number greater than yours, but a given item can only be stolen three times. Whomever steals it the third time gets to keep it. Most people have a hard time picking out horrible gifts, so there are usually a few desirable ones in the mix. Those are the ones we all try to get. It looks like Tyler finally got something good in this shot...chocolate and caramel covered popcorn. Yum!!! I guess he decided to eat it before anyone could steal it from him. Of course the more alcohol that flows into the group, the more the competition ramps up!

I can't imagine this Christmas without Tyler. He was going to be joining us here in Southern California for our Christmas gathering of 45 people, give or take a few. There are others we will miss this year too...Mabel, Larry and Katherine. I know there will be plenty of laughter and love in the space, but there will be the heaviness of the missing hanging over all of us. Life may not be eternal, but love most definitely is...

Yesterday we were going through boxes and organizing things at home, and I found a birthday card Tyler had given me in 2006. It was right before I moved to California. The cards he gave me, for any occasion, always made me cry because he never held anything back. The card I found yesterday is no exception. He wrote the following on the inside:

"I'll miss seeing you almost every day, but I'm happy you're starting a new chapter in your life. I hope you find something out there that makes you happy to go to work and offers growth to a new level of existence. I'm proud of you for having the courage to do what you're doing. I love you! - Ty"

I was deeply touched by those words and I'm going to miss the words he would have written to me in the future; the ones I'll never read. I love you, Tyler.

I think I can, I think I can, I know I can...

2008-12-03T21:34:00.000-08:00

We went to Maui with our mom and step-dad in February 2005. We had many adventures that included snorkeling, whale-watching, sight-seeing from a helicopter and driving a VERY narrow road that required us to honk before rounding the sharp corners...just in case someone was coming the other way. Tyler decided he also wanted to take a surfing lesson, so of course we all went to watch. I stood on the rocks with my Nikon and took pictures of him with the zoom lens. This picture is characteristic of Tyler's personality. Nothing is too hard and everything is possible. He always had lofty goals for himself and I knew he could do whatever he wanted to do. It makes me sad when I think about the fact that he won't be able to do the things I know he still wanted to do. It makes me wonder if he wasn't meant for a much higher purpose. I'll never know, but I will continue to wonder.

Every person who knew Tyler was deeply affected by his presence. Those who knew him well, those who knew him in passing and all those in between. I received an email today from a friend of his. She says she wasn't a really close friend, but in the short amount of time they spent together, she felt a connection to him. She told me a story about having an extra ticket to a Poison/Skid Row concert the day of the show and calling everyone she knew get someone to go. Tyler said yes. I know he was not going for the musical experience, but she still laughs when she thinks about him knowing most, if not all, of the words to Skid Row's "I Remember You." They had a few good talks after that, but this is the part she really wanted to share with me. She lost a really close friend to cancer (a neck tumor) several years ago. This was someone she considered the sister she never had. She spent some time talking with Tyler about that loss. She remembers that he expressed how he could not imagine his life without me in it. I had said the same thing to my step-mother this past summer when her brother passed away. I told her I could not comprehend the devastation I would feel if I lost Tyler. Those words still echo in my head. I never imagined...

This friend of Tyler's said something else that really struck me. In reference to the grief around the loss of her friend she said, "it's like standing outside looking through this distorted bubble, just watching life happen inside. It's all cloudy and nothing is shaped right; nothing makes sense." That is so descriptive of how I feel a lot of the time since Tyler's death. You know who you are and I thank you for being open to sharing your experience.

Surreal...

2008-12-02T22:25:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken in Edmonton Alberta this past August. Ty and I had driven through this neighborhood because we got a little lost driving from our grandmother's new apartment to her house. As we're coming around this bend in the road, we noticed the view and decided to pull over and take some photos. We had a good time taking pictures of each other and evaluating whether they were worthy of anyone else's scrutiny. The clouds were surreal and they looked even more surreal against the downtown Edmonton skyline. You know that feeling you get when something seems surreal?

Watching the life leave Tyler's body was the most surreal experience of my life. The grieving that goes along with losing him is also a very surreal experience. I'm still trying to figure out how to go about it. This isn't the first time I've lost someone in my family. Aside from Tyler, three people I cared about died this year. I've also lost a couple of uncles and a grandfather. I know crying is good and I've been doing a lot of that. I have shed tears for all those losses and occasionally still do, but this feels different. I'm still having trouble accepting the fact that Tyler is gone. This morning, sitting in Chicago's Midway airport, I looked up and saw some guy waiting in line to board his flight. Something about him reminded me so much of Tyler that I actually had an 'oh, there he is!' moment. Then that moment turned to a sick feeling in my stomach when I realized the man I saw couldn't possibly be Tyler because Tyler is...dead. I actually felt dizzy for a second and I thought I might be sick. I have so many moments when I feel like I don't know what to do with my emotions. I don't know where to put them. Martine's friend, Jemma, emailed me and suggested I get a book called "On Death and Dying" by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. I plan to pick up a copy this week. I'm not sure if it will help, but it has helped other people and I'm willing to try just about anything. Thanks, Jemma, for reaching out. Someone else recently said to me, "Tyler would not want you to be in so much pain." I know, I know...you're right.

To sleep, perchance to dream

2008-12-01T07:52:00.000-08:00

This is Tyler sleeping in a chair at our dad's house in Medford, Oregon. I think he was about 16 or 17 in this picture. So cute and so peaceful. He looked similar the night he died, a little older and a little wiser, but at peace...finally.

I still feel like I'm being punched in the stomach when I think about the fact that he's really gone. I don't know how long that will last. Hopefully it will lessen over time. I'll always miss him more than I can say, but maybe, eventually, it won't hurt so much. Some nights I dream about him. We're not doing anything in particular, just hanging out together. When I wake up, the realization that he's gone hits even harder. He was just here with me, laughing and joking, being the smart ass I know and love. What happened? I just want to keep on dreaming.

We're planning a trip to Arizona to scatter Tyler's ashes. He had wanted to move there for years, so we're going to take him there. That will be another in a long line of difficult moments. It will be like saying goodbye to him...again...and I'm really tired of saying that. At least he will finally be where he wanted be and that gives me a little bit of happiness.

So this is it...

2008-11-29T21:55:00.000-08:00

It comes down to this...what we leave behind. We sat at the estate sale the last two days, listening to people try to talk us down on prices for Tyler's things. Is that really all that's left of us after we die? Things? What a huge disappointment. If that's the legacy I leave behind when I go, I don't want to own anything. (Of course I just purchased a new laptop computer today, but we'll overlook that for the time being.) I want people to remember my kindness, how I loved, how I laughed, how I lived life with respect for others and with reckless abandon. There was so much more to Tyler than his things. I wanted to scream that out to those people today, especially that one guy who kept talking about nothing and negotiating his way to the next bargain. I wanted to get in his face and tell him 'my brother was so much more than the things he left behind.'

Holidaze

2008-11-27T10:23:00.001-08:00

The holidaze are upon us. Yes, I'm spelling it wrong on purpose. I think I may switch to that spelling permanently because the holidaze will never be the same for me without Ty. This year I just want to skip it all.

It is Thanksgiving day and I'm painfully aware of the void in my life. While I am thankful for many things...life, sweet love, family, friends, health, abundance, sun, sky, earth, crisp air, etc...I just miss my baby brother more than I can ever put into words.

Martine and I are off to the store and then to my midwest folks' house. Today we will feast on turkey with all the trimmings, imbibe tasty red wine, laugh at each other's stories and watch the little kids play. But we will also be acutely aware of the missing...

Peace and love to you all.

"Move To Grace"

2008-11-25T18:33:00.000-08:00

Those of you who attended Tyler's 'Celebration of Life' know that my partner, Martine, and I performed a song. Ty was always very supportive of my musical endeavors, so I knew he would appreciate me singing to him. It was my tribute to him, my way of giving a speech, so to speak...or not to speak. I'm not much of a public speaker, but give me an audience and I'm always willing to sing. That particular night, I was singing from the depths of my heart and soul.

As my family was discussing the plans for a memorial service, it was suggested that I sing, but no particular song came to mind at the time. A day or so later, Martine and I were talking about it and we discovered that we both had the same song playing in our heads the night Ty passed away. We knew then that we wanted to sing that song at the service. The song, "Fall From Grace" was written by Martine Locke and is on her latest CD, "Undone." It's a beautiful song in its own right, but we made some minor changes to it when we decided to sing it for Tyler. What we ended up with is called "Move To Grace" and we like it so much we plan to record it. It will be released exclusively as a digital download. Stay tuned; details will be forthcoming.

"Move To Grace"

Lying in this darkness

I can't find your face

Confusion, wins its race

Questions swirl around me

Like flies about to die

Madness, descends in the night

The further I get from where I started

The closer I move to grace

The further I get from where I started

Ah the closer I move to grace

Whisper your name out loud

Whisper through a cry

You've long since, left and died

Looking for these answers

Searching for your eyes

Misguided, romantic child

The further I get from where I started

The closer I move to grace

The further I get from where I started

Ah the closer I move to grace

I take a breath, I choose to breathe

I give my soul a chance to grieve

Watching, you fall away

I hold my head, I hold my heart

I give myself a chance to start

Walking, the other way

The further I get from where I started

The closer I move to grace

The further I get from where I started

Ah the closer I move to grace

The Great Tylini

2008-11-24T16:32:00.000-08:00

The sadness is overwhelming. I woke up this morning with a list of 'things to do' running through my head and, as I was going over that, it hit me...again...that Tyler is no longer part of the physical world as we know it. His energy/spirit is still alive, but the flesh and bones being is gone. The grief welled up and I cried...again. I still can't believe it.

Today I want to share a story with you. The story really has nothing to do with the picture or the finger gesture depicted therein, but like the story, the picture makes me laugh. I need some laughter right now. This story is the legend of the one and only Great Tylini.

When we were kids we spent a lot of time alone, just the two of us. I was left 'in charge' of Tyler a lot and, when we weren't trying to kill each other, we would often make up games or do silly things to entertain ourselves. One day in particular, Tyler was trying to tell me he could perform magic. The 'magic' in this case was the great art of escape. He told me if I tied his hands and feet, stuffed him in a laundry basket, tied him to the laundry basket and then put him in the closet, he could escape. I told him this game sounded dumb and we should do something else, but he begged and pleaded for me to play along. I finally gave in because the pestering was getting on my nerves. :-) We decided I should tie his hands and feet first, so I proceeded to tie his feet together at the ankles and then I tied his hands...behind his back. (Some of you know what's coming next and some of you can probably guess . Are you cringing yet??) Ty got up to 'walk' over the laundry basket so I could tie him to that and then drag him into the closet...but he didn't make it to the basket. In mid-waddle, he slipped on the hardwood floor and did a face plant squarely on his chin. Had we decided to tie his hands in the front or had I brought the laundry basket over to him, this may have been avoided, but alas, these things are usually clearer in hindsight, aren't they? When Tyler looked up at me, there was blood and he was crying. Wide-eyed, I ran to the kitchen phone and started dialing my parents' numbers. When I knew someone was on the way, I went looking for Tyler again. I found him in the bathroom in front of the mirror with a band-aid poised over the gaping wound in his chin. What I said next was probably not the best choice, "Oh honey, you're going to need stitches for that." Oops...my bad. He started crying like the world was coming to an end, or like he did in 2004 when George W. Bush was elected. (Ok, I made up the part about Bush, but Tyler would appreciate the joke.) I tried to reassure him that it wouldn't be that bad, but he wouldn't listen to reason. I mean, why would he listen to me? I'm the one who let him fall on his face. (Disclaimer - For the record, Tyler didn't blame me for what happened that day, but I often blamed myself.) At the hospital I sat with one of my parents just outside the room where they were stitching up Tyler's chin and I listened to him cry. It tore out my heart to hear it, so I cried for him. What a day that was. Lots of tears and 8 stitches later, everything was back to normal. Later, Ty and I joked that the little stitches sticking out of his chin made him look like he had a beard. Even though the great escape never took place, we dubbed him "The Great Tylini" because he was scarred for life from the experience. Much later, we would talk about that long scar running the length of his chin and laugh at our silly kid games.

Today...

2008-11-23T12:37:00.000-08:00

Today is hard. Each day since Tyler's surgery has been hard. Of course some have been better than others, but overall they are just hard. Last night I became aware of a hodge podge of emotions swirling around in me. Picture the agitation motion of a washing machine or maybe an F5 tornado. The tornado is a more appropriate analogy right now because of its destructive force. I feel like my insides are being destroyed by my emotions. It's my goal to take that down a notch (or two...or seven) to the washing machine analogy, to be washed clean by my emotions, but I know it will take a lot of time to get there. It's going to take work too and some days I just don't feel up for it. Today is one of those days. I'm angry, sad, heart-broken, un-motivated... I'm a smaller version of myself, a shadow. I miss him. I miss the long talks, the playful jests, quoting movie lines, talking to each other in that little voice that drove mom crazy, sharing words of encouragement, sharing pride in each other's accomplishments, and the silent comradery. I miss knowing that he was just a phone call or a text message away. The void I feel is immeasureable.

A Father's Guide

2008-11-22T19:30:00.000-08:00

This is my dad and Tyler in Fiji this past May. The little guy in the middle is their white-water river rafting guide. It rained almost the whole time they were there, but they still had a great time. That trip to Fiji now means even more to my dad than he ever imagined. Tyler asked me to go on that trip as well, but I lacked the funds and the vacation time to make it happen. I wish now that I had done it anyway.

My dad asked me to post what he wrote for Tyler's 'Celebration of Life' that took place on November 10th in Carmel, Indiana. It's a wonderful piece. He read it aloud to the crowd at the celebration, but he wanted to get it out to a wider audience. Of course I'm happy to oblige. Please read on...

A Father’s Guide
In memory of Tyler Fulton Ward
Born January 21, 1972, Died November 6, 2008

Everybody knew Tyler. You needed only to meet him for the first time to know him. To all he was respectful and considerate. To his friends, he was special; fun to be with, supportive and giving when the times and caring called for it. There was no need to ask. He was just there to give of himself, that which the times and place required; no questions, no hesitation, no waiting; just doing. And his family of friends never stopped growing; only extending in a way that matched his outreach to others.

Even first-time acquaintances walked away feeling as though they had made a new friend. His spontaneous wit and accompanying facial expressions ambushed funny bones and framed friendships everywhere. Words were rarely a part of his humor. In fact, engaging Tyler in conversation was frequently a challenge met with sparing responses, often clipped as though half of a yes, or no, were all that was required.

At the same time, once engaged, words, phrases and sentences flowed in a flood of ideas that shaped an ideology about a better world. Tyler’s inner struggles were intense, frequently painful yet always toward betterment. Many of his thoughts were expressed in absolutes, others were exploratory and yet others were left open for further examination at another time and in another visit. Tyler never stopped struggling to find meaning in life, his pursuit always constructive, never destructive.

While in many ways his thoughts were private, reserved for those who earned his trust, there was little that was secretive about Tyler. In a world daily spinning forth with a mix of new ideas and fresh offerings about how things ought to be, Tyler sought simplicity in its meaning. And with an inner power, an essence best described as resembling that of the Native Americans and their spiritual, yet earthly connection to this world, he never lost hope in the pursuit of his dreams.

His inner struggle was a private one shared fully with only a few, though there is one person Tyler trusted fully with thoughts of hope and happiness – his sister, Dionne. Often, she was my source of what was up with her brother. The closeness they shared is typically found only with twins. Ginny and I took great pride and comfort in what was a relationship tethered by love and text-messaging.

For Ty his journey ended several days ago in his death. His passing is to me a freak of nature. In the natural scheme of things I would go before him. At the same time, I have had an opportunity during this ambush of nature to more fully appreciate Ty through a renewal with some of his friends, like Mandy and Jihyun – and others I have met only recently – Suzanne, Ruth, Andy, and Steve – about who I had heard much. While there are many others I know by name and story only, it is in them that I find Ty.

Though Ty and I were separated by a physical distance between here and the West Coast that spanned 25 years, that distance never interrupted our talks. Those times were part of an unbroken exchange between Father and Son. There was no pause each time we met as in – now where were we -- but rather more like a pause before completing a sentence. In our talks I listened to the anger that comes from impatience and the hope that comes from the chase, never challenging either, only listening.

While our time together was not of the design I had envisioned, a transformation did take place during the time we had, which transition is perhaps best illustrated by a couple of stories.

When Tyler was a junior in high school, I took him to Turkey for a sailing trip in the Aegean Sea. Dutifully, he brought his schoolbooks. I suggested he put aside the books for a different kind of education. That schooling included exposing him to a different culture where the people were the same, only there the language and ways differed from what he knew. The experience included his first shave – by a Turkish barber – something we did together each morning to start the day.

It felt right then to be a guide to my son through a sea of knowledge. One filled with history, mystery and mythology. He came away from that experience a citizen of the world.

Only this last May when we traveled to Fiji -- where we shared yet another foreign culture of learning -- did he become the guide. There, in torrential rain we went white water rafting in the jungle-laden waters – as in Romancing the Stone – where the Fijian villagers knew no passage to markets except by water.

At the launch I expected to be positioned at the bow of the raft because of my experience in white water. Instead, I was placed at the center of the raft and without a paddle. When I objected, Tyler pulled me aside and said, “I think in this culture, Dad, you’re being seated in a place of honor, in recognition of your age.”

This was the time of transformation between Father and Son. Tyler was now instructing me. He was now my guide to the world. And he will be that for me – and perhaps for many of you – until the day our ashes are scattered on this Earth.

And our pursuit for meaning in life, as with Tyler’s, is left behind as inspiration for those who follow; to continue and ultimately, with the force of Tyler’s spirituality, to search for meaning in this life and to never give up the chase.

- Dale Ward

The process and all its facets

2008-11-21T22:21:00.000-08:00

This is one of many pictures surfacing in the wake of Tyler's passing. His friends are sharing photos of him from 10, 15, even 20 years ago. This is Ty with Goofy, the cat. From what I've heard, there was a cat named Mickey as well. (I'm sensing a Disney theme here. Walt would be flattered.) Apparently Tyler could make Mickey and Goofy sing just by pointing at them. He also taught Goofy how to assist in giving a back rub. (Not depicted here, but there are witnesses. Thanks to Tracy for the photo and to Nicci for the story.) I've seen some of these photos, but most of them are new to me. It's a little bit like opening a present you weren't expecting. There's the gushing of genuine surprise and joy. This is of course followed by overwhelming sadness as I'm reminded of the huge piece of my soul that is now missing. Don't get me wrong; I want to see all these photos and hear all of the stories. Keep them coming, please.

I talked with my mom last night and had lunch with my dad today. Of course we talked about Tyler and the huge void in our lives now that he is gone. Both of them are holding on to me just a little tighter and both have expressed apologies or just general awareness of that fact. I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing. I'm sure I will need to lean on them as well, just a little more than I did before. It seems like a natural part of our grieving process as Tyler's family of origin. My step-parents are in the boat with us too, riding the same stormy seas. We are sharing the same experience. Their experience is from a parent's perspective and mine from a sister's perspective, but it's fundamentally the same. We have moments, every day, when we see something, hear something, or think of something that reminds us of him. Some of those moments make us smile or chuckle, some of them make us cry, some of them make us angry and ask the universe again...why did this happen??? We have moments when we forget for a second that he's really gone, but the reality always comes swinging back at us like a rogue wrecking ball. There's no escaping it.

I've been told I need to start reading about the stages of grief. (Thank you, my love, for looking out for me. You have been by my side through all of this and I am eternally grateful for your presence in my life.) I know that's true, but I'm not even sure I've reached the stage of acceptance regarding the fact that I have this long, painful grieving process ahead of me. It's so hard to face. The moving forward feels like letting go of Tyler to some degree and, in my gut, that feels like a betrayal. Of course I know I NEVER have to let him go completely because he will ALWAYS be a part of me, but it's still hard to forge ahead. I know to continue to honor Tyler, I also have to honor the grief, so...that's what I will do. I want to do it right for my sake, for the sake of those I love, and for Tyler's sake. He would want that for me, for all of us. Some of you have shared your experiences of loss with me and I appreciate that. If any of you have any more words of wisdom to share, I'd love to hear them and pass them on to my folks. We will have to process our grief as a family and as individuals, and it will not be an easy road. Thank you all for your ongoing support.

An honor...

2008-11-21T00:38:00.000-08:00

If anything good has come of this loss, and I stress the word IF, it is the coming together of people with a common purpose. It is the reconnecting with old friends, the renewed bonding of family and the discovery of new friends. We've been given the opportunity to revisit the seasoned relationships, to say the things we left unsaid and maybe even start anew. We've also been given the blessing of new connections with people who share in the loss of Tyler, or the loss of another...or those who simply want to help see us through our pain.

I have a new friend in Illinois. I've only met her once, but we've shared sentiments and words of wisdom from afar. She sent her positive energy and healing thoughts to me and my family every day while we waited for news. She was there sending heartfelt hope and encouragment all the way through to the bitter end. She's riding her bike in the "El Tour De Tucson" on Saturday and she'll be wearing the jersey in the photos above. She has honored Tyler, and those who love him, by having his name put on her jersey. He is right below her cousin, Marian, who passed away in July. She told me Marian and Tyler are her "main angels this year, one on each pedal" as she rides. If Marian's spirit was anything like Tyler's, I know they will carry her through with ease and grace.

KC - You have been a blessing in Martine's life and now you are one in my life. You never knew Tyler, so it's even more amazing to me that you honor his life...without question. Thank you for being an amazing person. I know Ty is smiling down on you. We'll have that glass of wine the next time we meet and we'll toast to life, love and riding like the wind! Good luck on Saturday. We will all be cheering you on.

Another poignant moment

2008-11-19T17:10:00.000-08:00

So I'm sitting in an all employee meeting today at work. We have one every year about this time to go over benefits changes, profit-sharing, company news and other tid-bits. Today each employee was given a baseball cap with the new Chace (Chace Productions is where I work) logo on it. 2009 is the company's 25 year anniversary, so we're launching a new image/website, etc. Anyway, for those of you wondering...getting the hat was not my poignant moment. If it was, then it would be my hope you would ALL stop reading this blog. :-)
I digress...

The poignant moment occurred when they were talking about our benefits and they mentioned life insurance. I had forgotten we even had that benefit and I had a sudden realization that I had put Tyler down as my beneficiary when I filled out the form back in December 2007. I felt sick. I had similar moments when I saw Ty's email addresses in my gmail contacts and his name in my cell phone contacts. Deleting or changing those things feels like a betrayal, but I keep telling myself I need to do it. It's so hard to accept the reality of it. I guess I'm still in the denial phase and that means I've got a long way to go in my process. I know I'll cry over that damn beneficiary form when I fill out the new one and, frankly...it sucks.

The picture above is of a photo collage that we (mainly Martine and I, but my dad and Ginny helped in the final phase) created for Tyler's 'Celebration of Life' event. So many memories are captured on that canvas. He was such a beautiful soul and I dread all the poignant moments like the one that occurred today. I hope those moments are eventually balanced with the 'good memory' moments...remembering the laughter and heart-to-heart talks I had with him.

Peace.

The fam on film

2008-11-18T18:28:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken last Christmas. I remember it so well. Since I moved to California late in 2006, I missed seeing Tyler every day. We used to hang out together on our afternoon breaks at Sallie Mae. So, every time he came out to visit, I was elated!!! We always had such a great time together, no matter what we were doing. Some of us would tease him about photos of him because he tended to close his eyes, or only one eye. After a while, he started doing it on purpose, like in this photo. He was always goofy, even when he was being serious...if that makes any sense. Those of you who knew him well probably know what I mean.

We brought back a bunch of photos Tyler had on his computer and Martine was going through some more photos today while I was getting ready for work. She found some videos he had taken of us (Ty, my dad, Ginny and me) decorating the Christmas tree last year. I remember that evening so well. We had music playing and wine breathing while we riddled the tree with ornaments; some new, some old and some ancient. When we were done, we toasted our masterpiece and sat in front of the fire, chatting. I cried as I watched the four of us milling around the tree, joking with each other and humming to the tunes playing in the background. I laughed too when he winked into the camera before setting it down on the mantle to record our tree-decorating event. Watching those videos made me miss him so very much. It is going to be so hard to be without him this coming holiday season and on what would have been his 37th birthday in January. Who am I kidding? It's going to be hard to be without him every day, for the rest of my life.

A tribute

2008-11-17T10:25:00.000-08:00

So, here it is...I got this tattoo on Friday. I had been planning to get a Phoenix tattoo for about 2 and a half years now, but the timing never felt right. Now I think I know why. I had the artist (Matt at Metamorphosis in Broad Ripple, Indianapolis) add Tyler's first and middle name to the design I had chosen. He is now forever etched in my skin, as he is in my heart and soul. Any time someone asks me about his name, I can tell them about my baby brother and how wonderful he was.

The Phoenix is a symbol of rebirth, ressurection and immortality. The meaning for me was initially related to the huge changes I've made in my life over the past two years, but now that meaning is deeper. It is a symbol of my rebirth in life and Tyler's immortality in death. He will live on in all of those who loved him...and there are a lot of us.

I talked with Tyler about wanting to get a Pheonix tattoo. He always said that's what he wanted too and that I stole his idea. Well, sweet brother of mine, I got this one for me and for you. Love always...

Back to life

2008-11-16T13:10:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here, back in Glendale, trying to decide whether to keep this blog going...at least for a while. We landed at LAX yesterday, weary from the flight and sad from the experience of saying farewell to Tyler. I carried his ashes in my carry-on bag, along with the death certificate...and I still can't believe it's real. I keep expecting to get a text message, an email or a phone call from him. I have moments when I realize that will never happen again and it hits me hard in the pit of my soul. Then I get angry. How can this be? How did this happen? He was so young and alive.

The picture on this post was taken in the backseat of my grandmother's car in August of this year. My mom, Ty and I had made a trip to Edmonton to help my grandma get organized for her big move. She was leaving the house she lived in for 50+ years to move into a senior apartment building and she wasn't happy about it. She said having us there for those few days helped her tremendously. Looking back on it, I realize it helped all of us. It felt really good to lead my grandma around on my arm and chat with her as we walked. It feels even better now because of the quality time I spent with Tyler while we were there. I remember being so excited about the trip because I missed him so much. I missed my mom and grandma too, but it's not quite the same kind of missing. Tyler and I had a one-of-a-kind relationship. I've said this before, but it is worth repeating...I am so grateful for those few days spent in Edmonton with him. I've heard a lot of people talk about regrets regarding their relationships with those they have lost. 'If only I had told her...', 'I wish he had known...' I'm happy to say Tyler always knew how important he is to me and how much I love him, so I have no regrets like that. I'm just going to miss the time we could have had in the future...the time that will never be. My heart aches over that.

For now, I think I will keep this blog going. I can share pictures of Ty and thoughts about his life and what an incredible person he was. I think it will help me in my grieving process and maybe it will help some of you as well.

Tyler Fulton Ward

2008-11-11T09:14:00.000-08:00

January 21, 1972 - November 6, 2008

Brilliance

the brilliance
radiates
in all
that he is
in all
that he does
the brilliance
resonates
in his soul
shines
from his heart
spills
from his lips
the brilliance
emanates
astounds us
lives on
in all of us...
it is
eternal

- Dionne Ward

Thank you to all who attended Tyler's 'Celebration of Life' last night. I know he was there with us.

A Celebration of Life

2008-11-06T12:23:00.000-08:00

Tyler's 'Celebration of Life' will be at St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, 1402 W. Main St, Carmel, Indiana 46032 on Monday, November 10, at 6:00pm. We will have a reception at the same location immediately following the service. In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to Habitat for Humanity in Tyler's name.

Thank you to everyone for sending your love, prayers and positive energy to Ty and my family. Being a witness to the great love and respect everyone has for him is truly a blessing. He will live on in all of our memories and in our hearts.

He is at peace, but I will never be the same

2008-11-06T03:38:00.000-08:00

Our grandmother and two aunts came in at around 11:00pm, all the way from Canada. They said their goodbyes and we all cried together. Various friends of Tyler's came in yesterday and today to visit him, and more have yet to arrive. He is so loved by every person that his life has touched. That's the kind of guy he......................was......

Tyler Fulton Ward, age 36, was taken off artificial life support at approximately 1:00am on Thursday, November 6, 2008. He passed away at 2:11am with his family of origin and some of his chosen family by his side, holding his hands, his arms, his legs, and his toes. I watched the life slip away from him, as I held his hand and rubbed his face. I told him we were all there with him, told him how much we love him, and told him that it was ok for him to go...whenever he was ready. He was ready. I think he was just waiting for permission. As I told him earlier tonight, I will be ok and my life will go on, but I will never be the same.

As soon as my family makes the plans and arrangements for the memorial service, I will post that information on this blog. Please feel free to share the blog address or memorial information with anyone you think may want to know. Thank you all for caring about my baby brother. He was truly an amazingly wonderful man and I will miss him forever.

The brilliance

2008-11-05T14:51:00.000-08:00

Here I stand, my shadow cast upon the brilliance of this red foliage. I spotted it as we were driving back from the hospital and it reminded me of the brilliance of Tyler. Not only his intellect, but his personality, his sense of humor, his kindness, his love...I could go on and on about the brilliance of him. He has touched many lives. It has been a blessing to have him as a brother and a best friend. I am only a shadow of myself today, knowing that I have to say goodbye to him...

We were told today by the neurosurgeon, as we looked at the latest MRI pictures, that there is no hope of recovery for Tyler. He will not wake up and be himself ever again. If we keep him alive with machines and tubes, he will have no quality of life and we know he doesn't want that. Tonight at midnight we will watch as the doctors and nurses remove the artificial life support and then we will hold his hands and wait. We will let him know he is loved, he will be missed forever, and that it's ok for him to go.

I love you, Tyler Fulton Ward. We all do and you will be with us, in our hearts, forever.

Impossible news

2008-11-04T09:21:00.000-08:00

It is with great sadness that I write this update. It was determined today, based on MRI results, that Tyler is in a permanent vegetative state. The front portion of his brain has been severely damaged by a massive stroke. My Indy parents are waiting to talk to the neurologist before making any decisions. None of us were prepared for this scenario. It just wasn't an option. I'm in shock and I know anyone reading this is experiencing the same reaction. I don't even know how to ingest this news. How did this happen??? My Dad and step-mom are heading back to Indianapolis, and I'm sure I won't be far behind. More later...

Hope, tenacity and stubborness

2008-11-03T11:55:00.000-08:00

This is Tyler giving me a peace sign, or a gang sign, or as my partner Martine tells me, it means something completely different in Australia...something we associate with the middle finger. :-) At any rate, when he held his two fingers up to me in August when we were visiting our grandmother in Edmonton, I knew it was meant to be nice gesture. We had a great time hanging out together during that trip. I am even more grateful for that time now...

The stroke Tyler had occurred in the frontal part of his brain, on both sides. The blood vessels were "spasming" and they don't know why. There seems to be no explanation as to why this was happening in a part of his brain that was not touched during the surgery. Ron told me it's an area of his brain that controls the lower part of his body. It's POSSIBLE (nothing definite here) that he will lose the use of his legs. They are doing an MRI today to determine the extent of the damage. I still remain hopeful that Tyler can overcome whatever damage has been done to his body, through rehabilitation and tenacity. Most of us know how stubborn he is and that will work in his favor throughout his recovery process. Peace and love.

We wait for news and keep the faith

2008-11-02T21:27:00.000-08:00

This morning I got a call from Dad telling me that Tyler has had a stroke. We still don't know what caused it or the extent of the damage done, so again we wait...wait for news from the doctors. They did a series of tests on him today, including an angiogram. They need to determine whether the stroke was caused by an aneurism, a hemmorhage, a blood clot, or....?

I met a woman tonight who told me she had brain surgery about a year ago. I believe she said she had an aneurism. She was out of the hospital in 4 days, but she is just now, a year later, feeling fully recovered. She said it was an exhausting and frustrating process, but she gave me hope...

I was told that he opened his eyes today, but did not squeeze when his hand was held. I wanted to include this photo sent by his friend, Ruth, because it portrays the Tyler we all know and love. We know you are in there, Ty, and we know you are fighting to get better. We are all with you, some of us in body and some in spirit. Keep fighting!!! We miss you!

A pat, a squeeze and a grab

2008-11-01T13:55:00.000-07:00

Sorry there was no Halloween post. Tyler spent most of yesterday sleeping, but I did hear a bit of news when Martine and I were on our way to a Halloween party. Tyler was patting the heads, squeezing the noses and grabbing the hands of his late evening visitors. They were very happy to see his personality coming out after a day of non-responsiveness.

Tyler's fever continues to be a challenge and they are now calling it a central fever. It's most likely related to his brain trying to heal itself, rather than an infection. They moved all of his IV lines yesterday, just to be sure the fever wasn't being caused by a site infection. He's not very responsive again today. The fever is causing fatigue and he's also probably a little sleep-deprived. His body is demanding that he rest!

They will be doing another CT scan tomorrow just to check on his progress. The fluid draining from his brain is getting "clearer" which COULD mean he won't need a permanent shunt.

That's all I have for now. Thanks for reading, and for continuing to send out your thoughts and prayers for Tyler. Peace and love.

A pinch and a Sharpie

2008-10-30T16:45:00.000-07:00

Well...it seems I didn't know what day it was yesterday, as my first post to this blog started with a subject of "Tuesday..."

Today is Thursday and the first news I received was of Tyler pinching someone on the arm and wrestling her over a Sharpie. Not really wrestling, but he had quite the grip on the pen. Good news!! The Tyler we know and love is in there, fighting!

The surgeon has still not made a decision regarding putting in a permanent shunt. He plans to watch Ty over the weekend and decide on Monday, so we wait.

Tyler's ICP (intracranial pressure) has been good and stable over the last 24 hours. He is still not focusing his eyes properly, but he does recognize the people around him. The ventilator is still connected and we have no news of when he will no longer need it. They are giving him breathing treatments now that should aid him in his progress. He's responding well to all the basic neurological tests...hold up two fingers, wiggle your toes, squeeze my hand, etc. His fever was back up to 103 this morning, but they were able to reduce it again with Tylenol.

Thanks to all for reading and keeping tabs on Ty's progress. I hope to have more and more stories of progress to share with you as time goes on. Peace out.

Tuesday, 10/29/08

2008-10-29T19:03:00.000-07:00

Welcome to "Tyler's Update Blog." Tyler's friends can find daily updates on his recovery status here...at least I'll try to post updates daily. Please do not give out this URL to anyone, unless you clear it with me first. You can reach me at daward69@gmail.com.

Tyler had a crisis this morning with his breathing and a temperature of 103. They had to put him back on the ventilator and have been able to bring down his fever with Tylenol. Later this afternoon he was doing better and was interactive with his visitors. I was also told his color looked better than it had in a few days. He is still in the ICU and we're not sure at this point how long he will be there. There was talk Monday about a permanent shunt being put into his head this week, but then I heard some second-hand information to the contrary, so I'm not sure on that. I will try to find out.

His recovery process could take up to a year and we were told he will probably never be back to "normal" (whatever that means), but we are still hoping for the best. We all know Tyler and how stubborn he is, so we are expecting great things from him. Thank you all for your prayers and positive energy, and please keep sending it his way!