Now that You're Gone

the aftermath

[graceingrief]

I try to face hardship head on. I to look it in the eye and conquer it before it conquers me. If you read or “like” this post, thank you.

11.16.16 the date forever seared into my memory. These are my memories and thoughts during that time in something I wrote to Patrick. This is real and raw.

Ryan had told me. There was an accident, my worst fear realized. You have never seen me so panicked, not even when you told me Dad died. We got to the house, I opened the gate and saw Mom standing behind the screen door. A thousand needles of ice struck my heart. Until this point, I still had hope. I thought, we don’t really know where you are; you could be at a hospital somewhere and we could go to you; they could have saved you. But Mom’s face was bleak and drained of life. She shook her head. It was over; there was nothing to be done. No! how could this be? Why couldn’t they save you? Why couldn’t you survive this? Information came. People who didn't know you could read an article on the internet, yet I was still reeling. I imagined it all: you losing control, swerving into the car on the other side of the road and flying over it. I imagined Noah screaming your name, pulling you out and trying to save you. I imagined your labored breathing and your last breathe, your last heartbeat. Maybe you did not think of us. Maybe you did not realize you were going to die when you chose to ride. How could you have been so naive?

I remembered the lyrics to a song I had strangely listened to earlier when I didn't know you were gone yet. Not for a moment will You forsake me. Was God trying to prepare me? Trying to let me know he won’t abandon me even though I feel betrayed? This just cant be, you can’t be gone. I remembered a previous conversation trying to explain how awful it would be if you died from a riding accident. You told me “well if I die, then I die”...Mom is a husk of her former self, Alana is broken, I am broken...we have lost ourselves. It’s too much to process everything is crumbling before me. Your life is not your own. I hate to admit that I am mad at you. I am mad at the pain you have caused by thinking you were invincible. Mad that you thought your life was only your own.

Why did you have to die? I am older; I was supposed to die before you when we were 92. Remember when we were little? I protected you like a parent would. But you are gone, and I could not convince you to be safe. I could not protect you from yourself or from that car. Why must I feel the gravity of your passing? Living and enduring so many years without you is daunting. I want to rip out my hair and tear my clothes in agony. My insides are screaming. I want to die in a hole of darkness and leave this place; a place where my brother has died; a place where so much pain and horror exist; a place where we have been abused by our father; a place where I couldn’t protect you from this tragedy. I am in such pain because I love you so much and I am yearning to know if you understood how much I love you.

[graceingrief]

February. I have often thought of February as darkness. A blur. I can still remember every detail about the night Patrick told me our Dad was dead. Shock and anxiety rushed through me for days and days. I didn’t think I could feel worse, until November 2016 happened. But today has been tougher than in the past. Maybe it’s the accumulation of the deaths of so many people I have been close to. I often think, is this normal for a 27 year old?

This is my favorite picture of my Dad. For so long I wanted to be nothing like him. I did not want to like the same things or look like him, even though I did. I was ashamed to be his daughter. He was and is tied to so much of the pain and abuse I experienced growing up. After he died my emotions were instantly torn into a million pieces. Devastated, broken, scared. I didn’t realize how much I loved him. But then relief (and shame from it) surfaced. You surely shouldn’t feel relieved when your father dies right? I learned it was okay to feel relieved. He could not hurt me in new ways anymore.

Over the years I have been through a lot in my head to cope with my past and his death. Currently I am at a place where I can appreciate my Dad. I love the ocean like he did, love music like he did. I look like him, act like him in some ways and that’s okay. The other pictures are the “happy” memories. Memories that were captured in the blink of an eye. Whether or not the moments before or after we’re pleasant, it’s what I have and what I was given. This life is hard, and I can’t help but hope all these trials and tribulations sure shape my heart into one hell of a diamond.

[graceingrief]

1 Year Later

November 16th, 2016. The day I lost you. The day when everything turned dark. The day when sorrow became my world. Now one year later, I’m still broken but not always in my deep dark hole like I used to be. Some days that dark hole is tempting to crawl into. Then I see beauty like this and hope one day my tainted memories are sweet once again even in the wake of your absence. One day I will be able to see you and hug you. I will tell you all the things that I never said because I thought we had more time or because so much has happened since you’ve been gone. Things like how much you mean to me, how much I admire you, how hard it was to stare at your body knowing you weren’t really there. I’d ask you all the questions that somehow instantly took over my brain the minute you died. But for now I will look at the beauty in this world and try to cover up all the scars and wounds I have accumulated. Love you Brother ♥️

[graceingrief]

Your 21st Birthday

7/31/17

Today, on Patrick's 21st birthday, we released my Dad and his ashes into the Ocean. Saying that death and grief is hard is an understatement...I used to think I knew what it felt like because I lost my Dad five years ago but until Patrick was taken from my life I had no idea. No one wants to see these types of posts, read them and feel sad because everyone thinks "that will never happen to me, that happens to other people". To respect and support others going through loss people need to peer into that crumbling world. Imagine someone you cherish, are close with and hold deep in your heart, then imagine they are ripped away from you in a sudden tragic accident. They are never to be seen again in this life, nothing can change the reality you are given, nothing can fix it. There was no goodbye and no preparation, no last words given. No one can truly understand until it happens to them. I know that It will hurt everyday until the day that I die. 

My very core aches of sorrow and a pain that I have never known, never wanted. 

This is not how it could have been, this is not how it should have been, but this is how it is. Many times when someone says his name, the word brother, other things that I relate him to or if I see a motorcycle I feel a striking pain in my heart. I hope to talk more about my grief and pain as it gets easier for me to talk about it. I want to help others going through it and those who don't understand. If we ignore it, how can we help others in their pain?

[kushandwizdom]

I would never undo a single day I had with you

Ranata Suzuki (via kushandwizdom)

[graceingrief]

Christmas Perspective

Kathleen Lewis

Christmas 2017. One year ago, I braved the holidays. One year ago, I couldn’t bear to open or see wrapped gifts. A year ago, I did not put up a tree. I did not decorate anything. I could barely look at others decorations. Last year, on Christmas day, we went to my Aunt’s house like we did every year before it. We looked at the empty space that had once been filled. In the car, in the living room, at the table. Last December, I saw my brother’s body in a box. I guided him to the crematory. Last December, we had a memorial for my brother. Last Christmas was horrible.

In a world where merry, joy and peace on earth are shoved in your face throughout the holiday season, loss is there. 

Secular Christmas marketing is everywhere. Christmas cards stating “Happy Holidays” and “Merry Christmas” are sent to your door with pictures of smiling families, showing their best selves. Christmas songs have lines like “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” and “I’ll be home for Christmas”. Because of this, it seems as if no one else understands such a deep and painful loss. How can all these people feel like it’s the most wonderful time of year when I feel like it is the most terrible time of year? I am reminded even more of my loss the closer it gets to Christmas. The holidays and grief could not be farther apart.

It is the second Christmas without my brother. My memories are clear and not as scattered as last year. I am not as shocked, or as numb to my surroundings and they bring in a flood of emotion. This year when I heard the song “Rocking around the Christmas tree” I had a flashback of Patrick and I. We laughed and danced around our tree pulling each other around it during the chorus. Such a sweet memory from long ago, and it just shattered me. No matter how long ago that memory was, it hurts so much to think about it. Since I spent every single Christmas with my brother, those memories are what I have coming into the holidays. Looking at Christmas lights, the Nativity Scene drive through, decorating, christmas trees, christmas music (The Litter Drummer Boy was Patricks favorite song, I still have not listened to it yet), everything is tainted.

This year I have come a long way. This Christmas I enjoyed some Christmas music. This year I was not bothered by wrapped presents. By Christmas Day, the decorations didn’t seem to bother me as much. Some of them even seemed a little beautiful. I found joy in small moments and really focused on the people around me. I found joy in them and their presence. This Christmas I wanted to buy a pathetic tree, and settled for a small one. No lights, none of my previous sentimental ornaments were used, and I still couldn’t bear to look at our stockings. But we had a tree. 

This little tree represents all the holiday cheer I had this year.

This year we did not go to my Aunts house, and we did not do anything for Christmas Eve. We tried to turn the volume down on our emotions this holiday. We asked God for grace from others. Because I am reminded of my loss everyday, being grateful is a battle. Yet, I have found that I am grateful to those who have spent time with me in this holiday season. You have kept me going through a hard time and you have brought light and love back into my world.