It has been 645 days since my brother died.  671 days since he was hospitalized in intensive care.  26 days spent in agony before he died.  Agony for him, and those who loved him.

Often people ask me, “how are you doing?” I think I’m doing a lot better. When you go from crying every day, and your soul feels like mush from the memories every day, to… not remembering the last time you cried about the absence, I think that’s healing in progress, but there are triggers, triggers I don’t even know, or didn’t even know could be a possibility.

My mom LOVES talking about my brother, bringing him up in conversation which is super sweet, and healing for her I’d imagine, but in all honesty, I can’t handle it.  And it’s often the simple things, for instance, my mom took a handful of peanut M & M’s to eat yesterday, and before she could put one in her mouth she said, “your brother loved peanut M & M’s. I nodded and changed the subject. We saw a billboard of spicy ramen the other day and right away, “your brother loved spicy ramen, he got it as often as he could!” Ok mom, I get it!!! I just don’t need daily reminders of his absence, the things he can’t do, or eat, or talk about anymore. I don’t tell her that of course, but I suffer silently, and every mention is like a wound that is starting to heal, and is protected with a cushiony, brand new bandaid, and someone come and rips it right off taking some of the top layer off. You look at it, pink flesh, almost healed, and think, “here we go again… gotta wait, and be patient again to wait until it heals.” And you put more Neosporin on, and a brand new bandaid and pray this time it heals all the way.  Bottom line is, even if the would heals, and the skin closes all the way, with so many start overs, there will most likely be a scar, but the scar will be just a reminder of how long that hurt took to heal.

There are many other triggers that I won’t speak of right now, or here, but I just have to keep reminding myself that life does indeed go on, with our loved ones, or without them, and we need to learn to accept, to surrender, and to continue to thrive.

I am making progress, a lot of progress I think, but certain things bring it all back, and I wish I could push the clock back and make things new, and better, but we all know that’s not possible, and life has to go on.

I’m sitting in the back patio of my mom’s house drinking a cup of coffee in the sun by the fruit trees. I’m thinking all the thoughts, not just about my brother, but life in general and those who make my heart bloom.

Grief changes everything, and grief is not just about the what happened and the past, but the now, and even how much we handle the future. Nobody knows our hearts better than ourselves.

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you’ll learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” Elisabeth Kubler-Ross