Dad happened to call me at the perfect time this afternoon. I got off the phone with him a little while ago and for now, my spirits have been lifted. But give me an hour and I'll likely be a puddle of tears again.
Being back home has been harder than I realized it would be. I long to be back with my brothers and sisters again. Being in their company was helpful. They are the only people on the face of the planet who knew him as intimately as me. We all knew and loved him like that. Does that love die when a person does? Is it disrespectful to move forward in life and leave their memory behind? Right now I don't think so. Joseph would want us to continue being happy and to make more memories. Even though we have about a million, he'd want us to develop more inside jokes among each other.
I know he's here with us in some way. His presence is still felt everywhere we go. I like to think that he's on the other side laughing at our silly antics and cheering us on in our own lives. He wouldn't want our lives to stand still.
But when I start to dive back into life as if nothing happened, I am consumed with feelings of guilt. Guilt for moving on and the fear of forgetting him. It's like right now I want to take the eleventy-billion memories I have and keep them in a security deposit box. And I feel that by getting on with life, it somehow might begin to erase those memories.
Someone said to me yesterday that as hard and deeply as we love someone, we grieve just as deeply when they are gone. It is so true. Joseph was loved and adored by all who knew him. He touched people in ways that many people can't, including his own family. In time I will write about his funeral and it's astounding at what took place there. It was a testament of the kind of man he was. I love him and miss him like crazy. But he'd want me to keep living life, writing about the good times and telling silly stories about my children. I want to do that...for him.
Being back home has been harder than I realized it would be. I long to be back with my brothers and sisters again. Being in their company was helpful. They are the only people on the face of the planet who knew him as intimately as me. We all knew and loved him like that. Does that love die when a person does? Is it disrespectful to move forward in life and leave their memory behind? Right now I don't think so. Joseph would want us to continue being happy and to make more memories. Even though we have about a million, he'd want us to develop more inside jokes among each other.
I know he's here with us in some way. His presence is still felt everywhere we go. I like to think that he's on the other side laughing at our silly antics and cheering us on in our own lives. He wouldn't want our lives to stand still.
But when I start to dive back into life as if nothing happened, I am consumed with feelings of guilt. Guilt for moving on and the fear of forgetting him. It's like right now I want to take the eleventy-billion memories I have and keep them in a security deposit box. And I feel that by getting on with life, it somehow might begin to erase those memories.
Someone said to me yesterday that as hard and deeply as we love someone, we grieve just as deeply when they are gone. It is so true. Joseph was loved and adored by all who knew him. He touched people in ways that many people can't, including his own family. In time I will write about his funeral and it's astounding at what took place there. It was a testament of the kind of man he was. I love him and miss him like crazy. But he'd want me to keep living life, writing about the good times and telling silly stories about my children. I want to do that...for him.
1 comment:
I am so sorry...still. I haven't lost a sibling, but I lost a cousin when he was 20, and his brothers and sisters have never forgotten him, or the wonderful memories they have with him, but things have gotten easier for them. It will get easier for you too. I am home most of the time now, so if you ever want to just come and talk, or let the kids play, or whatever, come on over.
Post a Comment