Five Years

Five years ago today my oldest brother, Jerry died.

It's hard for me to believe it's been that long. I've had a bit of trouble remembering the exact day and that's encouraging to me - to know that some of the pain has subsided. His life was sad and tragic and so maybe it's fitting that his death was too. I keep the day written down on a little reminder card and sometimes I'm tempted to erase the date, knowing it will sift away from my mind and that I'd be glad it did. But I don't. So far I make sure I remember.

I still celebrate his birthday every year, taking time to remember the little blue bottle of Evening in Paris cologne he gave me for Christmas one year, making me feel very grown up when I wasn't. How much he loved Montana and hunting and anything outdoors. I take out the one momento I have of him - a photograph he took.

On this day I tend to remember the conversations we had about whatever he was collecting, and him trying to explain to me why he needed so many of one thing. I wasn't ever able to grasp why someone couldn't buy food or pay rent, but they would surround themself with 'things'. Expensive things. Over five years I've come to understand, just a little, that having stuff around him made him feel important and successful and safe. Even though he wasn't.

He was his own worst enemy, but that could be said about most of us now and then.

So he died, left big wounds in our family that are still healing, and taught each of us a lesson or two about life and how to live it.

I decided on the first anniversary of this day to not ignore it, but also not to focus on the raw, aching hurt he must have felt, that he transferred a bit of to each of us who were his family. Not to spend the day being sad, and tragic and hurt all over again. Rather I spend this day each year celebrating life itself, it's ups and downs. Life that somedays feels like it's going to wash over me with it's intricacies and difficulties and hurts, but also can bring me to tears with no notice, just thinking on the beauty of it - the physical beauty all around, but mostly the beauty of those around me. That old person who shows great bravery just by getting out of bed for another day. The mom who is single and raising kids and barely hanging on, or maybe not single but in an empty relationship, or worse. That dad who is wondering how to support his family. Young couples, hand in hand as they cut a path through whatever is ahead of them, raising the next generation, and babies. Oh babies. I've heard it said "Babies are proof that God hasn't given up on us yet."

I also heard somewhere, or maybe I read it, "Be kind to everyone you meet. They're fighting a battle too."

So today, quietly screaming out against my brother's belief that life wasn't worth doing anymore, that it was easier to give up and quit, I'm going to spend some time encouraging a first time mother, and hold her newborn baby. I'm going to take a little bit of time to be outdoors, enjoying the signs of spring all around, signs of life I guess.

And last, I'm going to call my mom. I suspect she could use a friendly voice today.