One year later…
Time moves differently when you’re grieving. Tomorrow is May. Which means we’re almost to the one year anniversary of Neil’s passing. It’s hard to believe. It feels like just yesterday he was here and also feels like it’s been forever since I saw him or spoke to him. I’ve been reflecting a lot on this first year of grief.
Grievers have a completely different perspective on life and time compared to before when life was predictable and “safe.”
Tomorrow is May and with it comes the closing of the first year of grief and the rest of my life.
The first year was hard. Because it’s filled with so many firsts. His first birthday since he died. Now he’s forever 44. My first birthday. The first sunrise after he died, and I wake up (if I slept at all), wondering how the sun is still rising. How is the world still spinning when my world just blew up in my face. The first holidays, the first time I went back to work (only to realize work is also blowing up and I’ll be out of a job soon). The first time I reach for the phone to call or text him and realize there’s no one there on the other end to pick up.
The first year is also a roadmap of all the lasts.
May 4 - The last time he was at my place.
May 12 - The last Mother’s Day we’re all together as a family.
May 15 - The last time my family would ever be together again and none of us had any idea. It’s also my sister’s birthday. I’ve told her a few times it will always be a bittersweet day for me now. May 15 also marks the last time I saw or spoke to Neil. That hurts to even write out.
I think about the last restaurant(s) we went to together. I have no desire to go anywhere near those areas now. The last time we talked on the phone. The last texts. The last ignored calls (whose calls are you not gonna ignore the most if not your sibling?). The last time we were together at our parent’s house. The last car ride we took together. The last family trip. The last new photos of him. Not ever knowing this will all be the last time.
May 21. The day of. A day that started out so ordinary. And then forever changed me and my family and his friends. One day I’ll share about the day and how horrendous it was. How much I had to carry for my family.
May 21 - what a mundane, arbitrary date. Until it wasn’t. He called everyone that day.
The first year, people are more likely to check in. But let’s be real 99% of people stop checking and stop asking after a few weeks. Everyone has their own lives to live and it’s easy to forget after a time.
Then there’s the fact that I lost a sibling. For whatever reason sibling loss is invalidated and rarely acknowledged. It’s so strange to me. A huge portion of the world has a sibling. How is the death of a sibling so easily dismissed?
I saw some people for the first time in a long time and when I replied to the question how have you been with “I’ve had a shitty year,” I get asked why, what happened? Mind you they know my parents and that my parents lost a son, but somehow I’m forgotten. I was caught off guard. It made me feel shitty. And then made me think damn I hope when your sibling dies you don’t get dismissed or forgotten.
Then there’s those people who really stepped up and reached out. People I didn’t expect to, showed up. I’ll never forget them or how they showed up for me in unexpected ways.
I didn’t lose a child, a parent or a SO. But my loss sure as shit matters just as much as these types of losses.
Anyway…I’ve been told to start a podcast (isn’t that what everyone is doing these days). Maybe I will. Because I have so many thoughts about grief and loss. Especially as it relates to siblings because it’s just not acknowledged. Even by some well known grief educators and counselors, I’ve noticed a gap in how they talk about it (or don’t).
Maybe I’ll start a podcast. Until then, I keep living moment to moment. Wondering what life looks like and what kind of relationship and ritual I can carve out with my brother.
I miss you every single day, Neil. I love you. I know you’re doing alright wherever you are, in whatever form you exist. Keep visiting and checking in on us, okay?