My mom and dad stopped by for a visit yesterday. Kari was in town to surprise Zach’s for his birthday so it was a fun family day. There was one moment, however that took me by surprise. My mom stopped, looked at me and mentioned that my brother has been gone for seven years. It was a moment where time stood still, no words materialized, only a silent glimpse into the vast abyss of unspoken love and loss. It never ceases to amaze me how moments like these keep sneaking up on me. These moments speak to something in the depth of my soul.
There are few things that touch deeply, and make me feel. Death is one such thing. Loses come in varying degrees, with death being the most definite. In other loses, there remains a grain of hope for a better situation, a hope of a repaired relationship, a hope that things can change. Death however, is a loss with no variable of hope. It seems an abyss of loss. I guess on some level that is not true, at least for those of us who believe in an eternal life.
I believe that I will indeed see my loved ones again. I think on some level, I am incapable of believing differently. I have to believe in an everlasting chance to change things, repair things, and finish things. I don’t know if it is different for someone who has no unfinished business. But I am hopelessly in love with second chances. Perhaps, I will never actually be hopeless; maybe I am simply eternally hopeful!!
Many people have told me that mourning is simply an outward representation of the love you had for the person you lost. I don’t know if that is true but it doesn’t simply go away. It did motivate me to live life to its fullest. It brought me face to face with my own mortality and it helped me get in touch with my own emotions. I do not think those are the reasons for my brother’s death, they are simply a result of my brother’s death. They are the wild flowers in a patch of weeds.
I guess I prefer to concentrate on the flowers and…..as for the weeds…I just keep chopping at them one at a time so the flowers can shine through. I know that sounds annoyingly optimistic but I have became a bit more optimistic when I decided to live, after I lost my brother. It is not an easy acquisition, that optimism comes at a difficult price, but it comes never the less. As for the random somber moments, my guess is that they will pounce on occasion allowing me to feel deeply, reminding me of the love and blessing of my brother, while reigniting my compassion for those around me who have also suffered loss.