Today is here, one year later. How do I even begin to write this post? I know I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to write this last month, about my brother, Gilbert, and what he means to me. About his passing and what that’s meant to me. Everything I’m feeling right now is exactly what I was feeling this time last year. The fear is still there, the sadness, the enormous love. But they’ve transformed and, in a way, so have I.
I’m really scared to live my life. I know that isn’t what my brother would have wanted, but I can’t seem to escape from that fear. I always had my brother looking out for me. That was his job, one of many. So this whole last year has been an exercise of independence of a kind I never expected to need. I had always turned to my brother for advice or someone to bounce ideas off of. I’m surrounded by people – family and friends – but often I still just want only him. We were the dynamic duo for so long and it hurts that he’s not close by for me to even hug.
Crissy Fields, circa 1982
This last year has been rough and I’m still pretty lost. But on the really bad days, the ones that immobilize me, I hear my brother’s voice gently guiding me. Funny, I’ve never been one of those who believed in voices, but here I am saying it’s true. That stuff does happen. I have conversations with my brother all the time. I ask him advice on what I should eat for lunch, ask him to come with me shopping, say goodnight to him every evening. And I always feel him respond in his own way. That’s a comfort to me.
My parents are doing as well as they can. I know they miss him tremendously, especially Mom. I can hear her crying sometimes and I wish I could help, but oftentimes there’s really nothing I can do but let her. I love hearing her sharing her day with Kuya. Dad being Dad has his moments when I know it’s too painful for him to talk about Kuya. Someday I hope I can help my parents more, but I think it’s enough that the communication between the three of us has greatly improved after my brother’s passing. Because sharing our memories with each other is really the most therapeutic for us.
At this point all I can promise is to try. Try to move forward and live a life worthy of my brother’s memory. My 34th birthday is coming up and I know that one will be really rough for me because that was the age my brother was when he passed away. So to honor him in the awesomest way I know how, I decided to host a mock marathon. I’ve titled it the “2012 Highway Run into the Midnight Sun 5K” with all pledge donations going to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. My brother was a pretty active guy and I think he would have gotten a kick out of this. He would have certainly joined in the fun. I know he would have loved the idea of friends and family coming together to celebrate. And that we’ll be doing so to celebrate him, he would have wanted everyone to join in.
Kuya, I love you, love you, love you. Always and forever.
WE ♥ LOVELY NOTES