We are left shaking our heads wondering why?
We try to find comfort in knowing that he no longer feels pain. But that doesn't fill the void or give us peace when we long to hear the sound of his voice, one of his silly jokes, his laughter.
We have no choice but to move forward. We pick up the broken pieces and puzzle them back together. Each loss of a loved one leaves those pieces slightly faded and not quite right at the seam but none the less reassembled. We can fortify them with glue, the glue we find in the love of family and friends who see behind the smiles we present to the world.
What was his legacy? What will we remember of him, what unspoken message did he leave behind?
His legacy was love.
My brother lived life large and on his own terms. Maybe his soul knew his time on earth would be shorter than most. He taught himself to play the guitar like a rock star, he travelled, lived in the country, had big dogs, huge fish tanks, rode a motorcycle.
I honour my brother every day when I remember him. I speak his name, share his stories and carry a part of his soul with me. This is how I keep him alive.
It been a year and a half since his passing and I would be lying if I said it's gotten easier.
I still expect to see him walk through the door of our father's house, still expect to hear him on the phone saying, "What's up Tizzy."
My mother passed away a few years before my brother. I'm certain they are together.
Cherish every moment with the people you love. You never know when we will be called home.
