We were the lucky ones

Maybe I'll regret being this vulnerable so public and maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just feel better. September 30th, 2002 my brother Dennis died. And I was changed. My family was changed. The world was changed. Nothing will ever feel as happy as it would if he were here to share it with, but then again nothing will ever feel as bad as losing him.
The world was whole on morning of September 27th, our family was whole. A horrible accident ripped us apart. It was like we were a puzzle, we had visible cracks, but we held together tight trying to keep all our pieces together. One of our pieces fell out Sept. 30th. Nothing fit back the same. No matter how many different ways we moved things around and tried to put it back together, nothing ever fit back how it's supposed to. It never gets easier, ever. That's a little white lie people say to make it seem less permanent. But that is just what is it- permanent. After awhile you just get used to the ache. You get used to the pain that hurts so bad you can physically feel it. You just learn to live with a piece of you missing.

I won't sit here and say we were perfect and we never fought, because we weren't and we did. But we all loved with everything in our heart and soul. That's the thing about death, you can have an infinite amount of love for someone but that doesn't guarantee they won't be taken away. It's painfully true that life doesn't stop for anybody, or anything. The only guarantee is that it keeps going, a new day begins, regardless of who got knocked down, regardless of who doesn't get to see a new day.
Driving home from the hospital, or driving to the funeral, or driving home countless nights since- it has hit all of us at different times over the years that while our whole world slowed down and has been painfully moving in a different way- the rest of the world continued on like normal. It's a strange feeling. It's hard to grasp that while our lives were turned upside down life didn't care. Driving home this past Monday night, crying alone in my car in traffic, I couldn't help but look at the people in the other cars, smiling and singing or at least not crying, and be a little jealous that the day to them wasn't forever deemed a tragic day with a horrible heartbreaking memory.

Every year around this time, I think constantly about how I can evolve and be a better sister, daughter, auntie, friend and girlfriend. It's human nature to get wrapped up in life and our routines that we forget to take a minute and just soak it all in. I'm just as guilty of doing this. I think a lot of times we just expect there always to be another tomorrow to make that phone call, another day to mend ways, another day to call your family just to say "hi, i love you." I wish I knew the last time I talked to Dennis it would be my last time. I would have listened harder to his laugh and memorized it, I would have kept telling him " I love you", I would have told him what an amazing person he is and how much I wanted to be like him. I wouldn't have just assumed he knew, which I know he does. But I would have said it out loud. I would have stayed on the phone just listening to his voice. But I didn't know, and that's my whole point. You never do know. This year I really am going to make more of an effort to just say what I want to say and not wait for "another day." I'm going to make more of an effort to soak things up and make memories stick. Do the same. I can't say enough how much I wish I had realized this eleven years ago. Just do the same. Believe me when I tell you, if you don't get "another day" it will haunt you. Do what you want with this advice, read it, share it, do anything but ignore it.

We are a family. It always was the five of us, it always will be the five of us. We're a little broken but like my sister Colleen pointed out- we're the lucky ones. We got to love Dennis for 23 years. We get to go on having a piece of him with us. We can be upset that our kids, boyfriends, girlfriends, whomever never got to meet him, but that just means he was that important to us that we feel so sad for those who didn't get to love him. He's our brother. He's our childhood. He's our history. We are the lucky ones.