Cemeteries have taken on a whole new meaning now. I look around at the markers and try to imagine those left behind. Spouses, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins…even grandparents perhaps. How did they cope? Was the loss expected or a sudden shock? It breaks my heart to look around and find infants and children who passed. How did the parents bear the heartache? There’s always the question of why. Why did this happen?
This may sound strange but when I think about those that were left behind, I don’t feel quite so alone. I realize that although I didn’t know the one they lost, and in most cases, didn’t even know those left to mourn, they felt the same kind of emotion I’m feeling. And yet somehow they moved on.
It’s hard for me to imagine life without my little brother around. Right now I’m just taking it one day at a time…mustering the energy and resolve to continue functioning. Just getting out of bed in the morning and putting one foot in front of the other is more challenging than I thought possible. But I have to keep going. I have to function. My kids and my husband need me. My family needs me. Matt would want me to continue living.
Ironically these days time seems to go by so fast but also stand still at the same time. It’s like I’m walking around in a fog, going through the motions…possibly living someone else’s life. I keep the faith that with God’s help, time will heal the hurt but I know the scar will remain.
I used to sing alot. If there is one thing I know about my brother, it is how proud he was of my singing. (You should know…and Matt would agree…he could hardly carry a tune in a bucket.) He gave me far too much credit but it always made me feel good to hear him “singing my praises” (pardon the expression). I can hardly think of a time when he’d introduce me to someone without adding that I “had a voice like an angel” or “you should hear her sing!” It warms my heart to think about it now. Much of my “lifesong” has left me now. Not all. But a good portion. I think I’ll get most of it back eventually. I’ll keep singing for him, though, and take solace in knowing that he is one of the angels now and singing more beautifully than I ever could.