Thursday, June 09, 2011

Four Years? Not Possible.



Four years ago today my little brother John died due to ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease).  It doesn't seem possible.  I miss him, and yet I somehow feel like I've shared the last 4 years with him.  Hubby and I were just discussing the immense leaps in maturity both our daughters have shown in the last 6 months.  How is it that I haven't shared that with John?  I'm not certain how to express what I'm feeling.  There is a definite sadness of not actually seeing John and hearing his laugh and wondering if I missed something in the conversation when his eyes would twinkle with that "I know a joke you don't".  But there is also a strong feeling of him still being here with me...I carry him in my heart and often think of things to tell him.
Years ago John told me he thought the Singer should be a nun.  The Singer was all of 12 at the time.  I told him anything was possible but that I wouldn't share his opinion with her 'till sometime later.  Last year the Singer began to seriously discern her future and entering the convent was one of the paths she was looking at.  I told her then what John had said.  I feel like John knows all about that, but would still have loved to sit, talk and laugh with him about it all.
The Imp has grown up sooo much this year.  It's hard to imagine that her knowledge and experiences with John stop when she was only 13 years old.  Her life view is so different now, she would have been able to enjoy John more as she has matured.  I am sad for her loss that she doesn't even realize she should miss.




Whenever I try to express my thoughts and feelings about things deep and personal like this, I feel like I lack knowledge of an entire set of vocabulary words that would somehow succinctly, eloquently and comprehensively allow me to communicate.  I don't normally struggle with what word/words to use to accurately portray my thoughts.  In this area I inevitably feel uneducated; and unable to clearly articulate my meaning.

1 comment:

Cindy said...

You know I share your pain.