I did it - made it through Christmas without a tear.
And then guilt. Today I feel like I should cry. Should let out what sorrow is left. Not that it would be possible. I think back to the days right after he died. The shock, the numbness and some part of me wants to be back there. Each day goes on and I live it out. Each day he isn't here.
So much in the world can be fixed. Most everything can be repaired. We fix cars, relationships, toys. You can pay debts. You can mend fences. Death just can't be fixed. There is no way to recover my brother. Just keep living.
And then the living seems unfair. I had a lovely time walking around Boston yesterday with my friends Mike & Ken. I enjoyed dinner at a pub in Falmouth with my Aunt & Uncle. Warren still isn't alive. He's still dead & gone.
He feels so much farther from me lately. He's gone more completely now. I don't feel his confusion, or encouragement. I don't hear him telling me what to do, like I did those first few weeks.
Losing a sibling is so strange. He was supposed to be with me. Go through life with me. Be there when my kids want to visit, as I'm visiting my aunt now. My parents have such acute pain - they lost their son. Their son who should have outlived them. His wife lost her world. I just lost him. The order of kids has been upset. I reject the position of oldest child. Brendan and I should both have stable Warren to be there for us. Warren the rational, the normal, the straight and narrow. Some part of my psyche thinks that I should start conforming now. Like I need to take his place. I'd fail at that miserably. How do I keep being me without his counter balance?