I know

Seriously I know....I mean it has been a long while..I am just going to apologize and move on. Yesterday was the death anniversary of my brother Christopher. He would have been 55. He died when I was 8 years old. He was only 19 years young at the time. I can remember moments from the day he died as clear as crystal. I was in grade 2 and it was donut day at Our Lady of Mercy School. All the kids were just getting their donuts. I hadn't ordered mine for whatever reason, mom forgot, I forgot, no change that day for myself and my two other siblings still in grade school. Not sure why but there was a reason. I knew I hadn't ordered a donut so wasn't expecting one. As the donuts were being handed out, Mrs Thomas, the loveliest grade two teacher you could ever meet, called my name and said my Dad was here to see me. Once already that school year my dad had shown up on a hot lunch day with homemade hamburgers for my grade school siblings and I so I was excited by his appearance. What treat was he bringing today? I didn't run out of the classroom because I wasn't a rule breaker but I practically skipped to the door. I didn't notice that Mrs Thomas looked sad or that the principal was whispering to the Nuns in the hall. All I saw was my Daddy with his arms reaching out to me. I noticed my sister and my brother almost simultaneously coming out of their classrooms down the hall. When I got to my Dad I noticed the tears on his face. I don't think I had ever seen him cry before. He looked shocked as he said your brother Chris died today... I can only remember feeling overwhelmed by the situation. I wanted to cry but couldn't. I didn't know how to act. I didn't know what to feel. I didn't understand what was going on. As the days went by and sorrow blanketed our house like a winter storm, the grief of my siblings and my parents overwhelmed me. I would walk into a room and they would be sobbing. I thought there was something really wrong with me because I couldn't cry. Hadn't I loved my brother too? It wasn't until his casket was brought to the house for the wake and the open casket sat  in the hall that I was finally able to cry. I think back now to the feelings of an 8 year old child trying to understand the death of her brother. Trying to understand that she would never get to see him do those amazing handstands that went on for a lifetime or until his face turned blue. One thing I was truly reminded of yesterday is the importance of keeping my brothers memory alive. I told a few stories to my children yesterday about their uncle and we visited his grave site. We are all thinking of you Chris and what a wonderful gentleman you were and wishing we had had more time with you.  - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone