Thursday, January 16, 2014

Missing Him

I felt like I was making progress in finding peace. For a moment I lost sight of my grief,
and when it came back a couple days ago, it completely knocked me off of my feet. 
It's like my pools of tears have been re-filled and are ready to over-flow at any moment. 
My breath escapes me with the recollection of my heart.

 I've been snapped back to the reality of missing him, and this sadness that is all encompassing.
As time goes on, the events of October seem more and more surreal; 
I must remind myself David's gone multiple times a day. 
Sometimes this memory is accepted calmly, but other times it hits me with the velocity of that first night. 
It is difficult knowing that I will always miss David, and this pain will always be with me. 
It is impossible to think of him as gone forever; it just hurts too much. 

Unlike most things in life, there is no solution to fix this.
In an instant, this sadness became a part of my "new normal."
                     _____________________________________________________________________

David's life was so much more than the crisis that took him. His life was so much greater than his death. 
In some weird way you think that that means his life should somehow win. 
It seems like death's punch should be dodged with the force of his life. 
It doesn't seem possible that something could take that away from him. 

I know David. I know that he would have kept fighting. Why didn't he get the chance? 
Why was the strike of his illness so powerful? How did it escalate out of control? 

David was a fighter. 
He was also a lover, a thinker, and a giver. 
He brought my life joy, support, and love. 

I just miss him. 
I miss hearing his voice. 
I miss hearing his laugh: sometimes boisterous, sometimes a soft chuckle. 
I miss his eyes, beautiful brown eyes which he proudly credited to my mother. 
I miss his walk, 
the way that he moved for here to there with the coolest stride that I never could emulate quite right. 
I miss his dance moves, and his complete lack of inhibition on the dance floor. 
I miss his energy and his enthusiasm for all experiences and all people. 
I miss my brother. 

All I want is to give him a hug. 

That is all for tonight: tonight I am missing him and I am loving him. 


1 comment:

  1. He was an amazing guy. Not a day goes by that he doesn't pop into my head. I hang his obituary in my locker as a reminder to keep moving on and to keep my head up. I swear seeing that everyday has helped me as a person. Still don't want to beleive it but its still sureal.

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