Sunday, September 30, 2012

some pictures

That last posts have been heavy, so I want to add some pictures of my brother. I have always been a picture person. While I don't have the sheer photographical talent my brother and sister have, I have always loved and appreciated them. (Which is why I hired one of the best wedding photographers in the area for my wedding) :) Evan may be gone, but his pictures remain. Let me share some with you. Most of these pictures are birthday celebrations, in honor of his birthday this past week. He would've been 22. More pictures of that celebration to come.


He was about 15 here.

Same day. He was a goofball.


another birthday celebration of his and Kelly's. 15? 16?

From teen to man. About 19 here? With his beloved macbook.

A very special memory. His and Kelly's birthday celebration two years ago this weekend at Stuckey Farms.

my birthday celebration a few years ago. He was 17.

always so full of life.

Stuckey Farms Birthday Celebration. Fall 2010.

I love his smile here :)

Kelly's graduation party just last summer!


so handsome, right? :)


him and his girlfriend. 

the only picture we have of him holding his niece, Summer 2011.

another birthday celebration.


just this last Christmas, 2011.

same graduation party. summer 2011. notice my grandpa here too. this is the last picture I have of both my brother and grandpa in the same picture. I will treasure it forever.

god love him. 



No visitations

Evan, why have you not visited me? Why have you not come to me? I need you so. I need to see you again. I need to hear your voice again. I know its not possible, but I need one of your amazing bear hugs again. I need to feel your arms around me.

I woke up this morning at around 6 am. On a Sunday. Both you and I know how rare that is. I couldn't sleep. All I could think about was you. I was missing you so much it hurt. My mind hurt. My heart hurt. My breath was taken away. And I yearned for you. I yearned for you so much. For your touch. Your laugh. Your smile.

I need to see you again. I need to hear you again. But I'm scared.

I can't walk through my house without the lights on. I can't open my eyes when I toss and turn at night in case you are standing there. I can't be the first one to walk down the hall at night. I make Eric go first and light my way.

How can I be so scared to see you yet want to see you so much at the same time?

I guess in my perfect world you would visit me in a dream, not in spirit form in my home. But I know thats ridiculous. I can't choose how you come to me. All I can do is get over my fear of seeing you so that you feel like you can come visit me in whatever way you want too. I will try to work on that, little dear brother. The other night I thought about getting up out of bed and just sitting at one end of the hallway in the dark, waiting for you. Why is the hallway the scariest place in my house? I don't know. But I'm tempted to face my fears head on.

The other day I was driving home from work and I had the most horrible thought. I almost ran off the road it hurt so bad. Have you not come to visit me because I'm not worth your time? Am I not important enough to you? Are there other places, more important people, more pressing things to do than to visit me, your sister? I can't help but think so. And when this thought hit me, it was like running into a brick wall. And it wasn't in question form. It was a statement. Like the devil himself ascended down on me and whispered into my ear, "You aren't important to him." I started balling right then and there in my car. So I am doubting myself big time right now. Is that why you haven't visited me? That is the worst thing imaginable to me, and I don't know what I would do with myself if that were the case. I'm pleading with you brother, to show me that it is not so.

Like I said, I need to see you. Hear you. Feel you. I need you.

Remorse

Lately I've been feeling lots of remorse. I felt remorse about my brothers and my relationship when he was alive and I feel remorse when he's passed. Let me preface this post by saying our relationship was 100 times better in the last 3 years than it was his whole life before that. After our family went through intensive counseling and therapy together in 2009 our whole family formed a new bond, a closer bond, an unbreakable bond.

But as things tend to happen, that bond was slowly loosened as the months went by. I mean, I think we always appreciated each other and had a renewed sense of love for each other, we never again would take each other for granted. But we did lose touch. We did stop talking unless it was in person (which I only saw him about every month or two). That part kills me. We lived in the same damn city! Granted, our two homes were about as far away as you can get in the city. I live in Greenwood, he lived on the NW side. Thats about 50 minutes away. But thats still no excuse. I think what makes my remorse so great is that I KNEW how special he was to me and I CHOSE not to do anything about it, to preserve my relationship with him. I just let it stay stagnant, rather than cultivate and grow our relationship even further. In my mind, our relationship was great compared to before, so I let it be. I should've never compared, I should've continued to make it even better. Thats what makes my remorse so great.

I also feel remorse about how I interacted with him. Now I could possibly be overreacting, as people in grief tend to do, but I am constantly feeling guilty with how I interacted with him. I curse myself for being strict with him. For challenging him. For making him question my belief in him (which I never did). I knew he was capable of great things, but perhaps I pushed him too hard to accomplish those great things. I just wanted to push him, to encourage him to push himself, to make up for lost time (he started college a couple years late). I wanted to push him to continue his college education even when he wanted to quit and make it on his own. I think he thought I didn't think he could make it on his own. I think he thought I thought that he would be nothing without an education. And damn myself for not even entertaining the possibility that he could make it on his own. And damn myself for not giving him more credit to accomplish that on his own. If I had only known that he would no longer be with us, would I have changed my interactions, my expectations, my beliefs about him?

Curse it all. I can't believe how hard I was on him. And I'll never forgive myself for it. Curse myself and my educator status. Curse myself and my high standards, not only for myself, but for my students, and for anyone getting an education. Curse myself for not realizing Evan was not one of my students. He was my g*damn brother. Curse myself for not realizing this when he was alive, but realizing this and regretting this all too late.

If you were here, I would let you find your own way rather than me pushing you to find the way in which I thought was best for you.

I hope you forgive me.



_________________________________________________________________________

UPDATE:
Wow, I just checked my email and look what was waiting for me in my inbox. This couldn't me a more perfect email in response to what I've just written above. Creepy? Or God?


Thursday, September 13, 2012

gratitude/details/life on loan

i'm exhausted, so you won't see much effort invested into this blog post, but i am inundated with things i need to get off my chest so here goes.

it pisses me off when i hear people complaining about their lives. don't they realize it could be so much worse? and i only realize that because my life IS so much worse than theirs. I would never say that to their face though. I only think it, which doesn't make my recovery any better. i mean really. so you have sinus problems, you are busy planning your daughters wedding, you are planning your own wedding, you have a crappy job, you are stressed, you have relationship problems, WHATEVER. Just shut up. people are so self involved. its all about them and it so about them they can't even see that it could get so much worse. i'm done with pity parties. ironically, i am feeling this at the same time matthew perry made a  contest out of whose grief is worse on his new show, Go On. I couldn't help but relate ;)

second, details. it has been so long (yeah, right) since his death that i've forgotten that some people still don't know basic details of his death. for a long while, the family wasn't ready to talk about them, so we just said car accident. thank you all for respecting us enough and loving us enough to simply take that answer as is. for the rest of you, go ahead and gossip all you want. we know the honest details of his death. here they are: evan died of brain trauma. he was brain dead upon arrival at the hospital (which was literally just around the corner). that happened at around 10:30 i believe. how did he get such injuries? evan was riding a car. no, he wasn't in it. he was riding it. he wasn't on top, but was leaning against the windshield. he was on the car for far too long and the car was going far too fast (even 1 mph would have been too fast for having a human on it). and yes, he was completely sober. not high. not drunk. nothing but recklessness, nothing but evan. evan made to jump off the car (slide is a better word) when he saw police cars off the side of the road. he knew he'd get yelled at. as he was getting off, the car was pulling over. we think the laws of physics apply here. for every action there is a reaction or something like that ;) evan was sliding off as the car was pulling over and it threw him off the car. his big heavy art bag he had slung over his shoulder didn't help even out the weight either. his head smacked down on the concrete, perfectly hitting the brain stem in the moment of impact. not the side, not the front, just that perfect sweet spot in the back. at the base of your neck, the stem of the brain. responsible for every well being trait in your body. it took about three minutes for him to become throughly brain dead. there was no hope, but there was no pain either. it was quick and painless. the way everyone hopes a loved one dies, right? hah. thats just sordid. by the time the paramedics arrived, they knew there was no hope as well as the neurosurgeons at the hospital. they didn't even attempt emergency surgery to losen the skull (which had multiple fractures, by the way). by the time we got to the hospital, they had already had him on life support. every one knew. i knew. dad knew. mom was in denial. later, in the following weeks and months, we would be in denial as well that he was truly gone. i still am sometimes. the only consoling thought at the fricking hospital was that i could have a few days to say goodbye, that they could sustain him as long we as needed. again, there were no injuries anywhere else on his body (i mean other than the road rash). he lungs were fine, his heart was fine, etc. his injuries were solely head trauma. i'll never forget how he looked in that hospital bed. he still had his hair and his perfect lips and his adorable poteet nose. but his gorgeous eyes? gone, buried under the mass of the brain pushing through his skull. (sorry if that was too much, but this is for me, not you). that was so scaring, what i wouldn't give to look in his gorgeous almond shaped green eyes again (sometimes they were blue, sometimes they were even grey). and what i wouldn't give to say goodbye to him alive, not brain dead. i got to do that with my grandpa. i got to do that all weekend with him. but he died painfully, from pancreatic cancer. why can't my loved ones die with both closure and no pain? why one or the other? anyways, i digress. we thought they could keep him on life support until at least my sister came in on the next flight from california. we were wrong. we had 5 hours with him before the nurse said we should come in and say goodbye. he was already braindead, though, we knew he wasn't there. but know not even life support could sustain him he was that bad. we called in the grandparents to say goodbye. i'll never forget that. i think my grandpa (who had already had developed the cancer but didn't know it yet) lost his spirit that morning he saw his grandson on his deathbed. i've never seen him so broken. he was a fighter his whole life. i've never seen my grandmothers cry like that either. they are both very strong and confident and independent women. both were broken as well. after that, we waited around until they did the ink blot test, to scan for any remaining brain activity. thats why his date of death is officially may 4, because they did the test at 9 am. he was technically dead at 10:30 pm on may 3, 2012. the only consolation from this whole thing was that they were able to donate ALL of his organs. that is so rare. his heart, my own brothers heart, went to a 14 year old boy. if thats not touching i don't know what is.

i could talk for days about those days in the hospital (yes, days). i will never forget those days for as long as i live. i will never forget the smell either. how towards the end the room stunk of death. the blood seeping was too much for me to handle, it was all i could do not to vomit in the room. i will never forget how sallow he looked either. but then when they harvested his organs, kept his vitals up for a couple days for prep for donation, he looked so rosy and full of life. but he was dead. isn't that the biggest case of irony you've ever heard of? how can someone whose dead look so full of life? ugh, its twisted. just twisted.

okay, moving on. lets talk about evans life on loan. for a while now i have felt like evans life was literally on loan from God. most people don't know he was born with a hole in his lungs. i mean, from the very first day of his life he was in the intensive care unit. in the very last days of his life he was in the intensive care unit. from his early days to his last days, evan had too many close calls with life versus death. i had originally wrote them down, but my list is gone. i can mainly think of his using years in his teenage hood. while it was never shooting up, he did alter his state and do stupid stuff. he was reckless. he was in one very serious car crash when he was 17, that catapulted him into rehab. now, looking back, i realize now (as he had often stated in the last year or two) that he wasn't an addict.  or maybe he was at that point in time. but i think really he was just an immature teenager who was making consistently wrong choices with the wrong people, and was in such a lifestyle he couldn't pull himself out. now, as a man, he made his choices, much different than the choices he made as a teenager. he did enjoy his alcohol, but what 21 year old wouldn't? ;) okay, so aside from his reckless teenage years, then came the crazy ass driving. again, reckless. he thought he was invincible, just like my dad. he was a horrible driver. there was a series of 4-5 accidents in 2 and a half years i think? he was lucky to come alive out of all them. again, why did he not die then? God gave us more time with him. God let us have just a little more time with our brother, with our son, with our friend. But God knew it was only a matter of time. We didn't. We were shocked when the accident happened. God wasn't. God did give us quality time together in his last couple months of life, although we didn't see it until after the fact. Hindsight is 20/20, right? I don't know if it was God's choice or not, but God was definitely trying to "soften the blow". Not that that really helped. Anyways, Evan should have died many times over. Evans life was on loan. God let us lease him for 21 years before calling him back Home.

This leads me into another topic- Premonition. I think this post is too long and i am too tired to go into it now. Will save for another entry. Until then, remember, don't take life for granted and count your blessings.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Tears

Im exhausted, but cant sleep.

I may have had my biggest cry yet just now.

I mean, not just crying. Not just whimpers, not even sobbing. I mean, wailing, moaning, groaning that comes from the inner most parts of my heart broken, shattered and shred to pieces soul.

I scared my dog and confused the heck out of my husband.

It did just happen in the middle ofthe night after all.

This week has been so bad. My dad says he has his worst grief in the mornings, but for me, it is by far amd away worse at night. After my house is asleep,when i am reading my book. Then out of my own control, i cant stop thinking about them. They come to visit me in my mind. The haunt me. I am being forced to think about them and cant stop. They are on my mind and wont go away until i break down into tears. Then i am so exhausted by the time i cry it out that i am empty vast and void, emotion and feelings are wiped clear and i am just....there. Then i fall asleep.

Tonight was the worst bc it was the first time i mourned for not just my brother, but my grandpa as well. That was a double whammy.

Lets see if i can somehow manage sleep now.

 Good night world. Good night evan. Good night grandpa. May your spirits leave me in peace.