"Sadness is the last act of love that we have to give to those we loved. Where there is deep sorrow, there was great love." ~ Unknown
It's been almost six months now. A half-year without my brother and sorrow continues to visit. I'm pretty sure sadness does not really go away, it just gets farther.
People continue to ask me how I am so "powerful" through all of this, confusing my happy moments to the full picture.
I keep telling them that power comes because I feel everything.
The story in itself is my treatment, my opportunity to relive the amazing memories, my opportunity to show you the sorrows of sorrow I led.
The last thing I said to my conscious brother was: "But I believe in miracles, I really do it."
To be fair, the last thing I really told him was a travel story for me using an elegant pot in Thailand in the hope that humor would bring him back to the response.
The thing is, I really thought a miracle was possible, or at least I wanted to believe. Surely it was not time to go. All the divine higher power would not take my older brother, my model, my mother's boy. It was not just time.
The volume in his spine seemed to disagree with me though.
My brother is gone now and there is a human hole hole in the universe I am in, but I survive. in fact, I am blooming in this life I have now.
But let us support a little, because I can not just tell you how I go through this time of sorrow without completely and completely honoring the man who was my brother. He called me his little boyfriend and although my older brother was the babysitter, Kirk always whispered in my ear that he was really in charge.
He liked Dungeon and Dragons, the donut, finishing a great book, writing and staring at a coffee magazine perhaps made of suede or something cool. I liked to turn upside down or hold me down and moan me until I was absolutely sure I was going to nail my pants. He would say things that did not make any sense to me until later, when I would sit and study with stillness.
Something about Kirk's soul was so playful, but it inspired me to stay and live with the presence I have. He did things like building mud houses for sustainability and turning the middle to farm-producing. He took pictures of murderers and made clay statues that I thought would move at night and haunt me.
Kirk told me "to try everything once, unless this thing will kill you, then you miss it." That's why you can catch me building a business that makes no sense to who I am, I travel to foreign countries, to build a 401K or something that adults do. But when there is a human hole in your universe, you do things for joy. Perhaps it is to honor them, perhaps because you live life at the maximum possible amount that you can ever have. Either way, I will only continue for things that light up my soul.
And then there was cancer.
Do you know how if you endure something just the right amount, your kind becomes normal? The recurring chaos in your life has a way to do that. And after watching the battle cancer for my grandmother and winning, my mother fight cancer and win, and Kirk beaten again and again, felt like the rule. Just as it was something that is plaguing my family, but we always get away from it.
Everyone is handling something different. personally, I am that "the ray of sunshine, the glass half full and hey, I will help you and with your glass too" kind of girl. Sunshine and cancer do not mix well. I got very well in the smile, cheering people and ignoring the intruder in our lives.
When I opened my phone and received the reading of the text, "It made a turn to the worst", my soul did not believe it. I was on an airplane, believing that my sun would be enough to stop this spiral.
My sun was not enough to bring it back to life.
My sun was faint until its darkest.
My glass was overturned.
Sadness poured out my soul. Earrings, inexplicable, dynamic sadness.
It's been nearly six months since this hole was created in my universe and every day someone asks me how I'm so "strong" or "positive." I will tell you exactly how.
When I'm crazy, I get mad. I allow myself to hear why I'm crazy because I know the answers are on the other side of it. I do not put my anger on anyone or anything. I just leave it as it is, even if it makes no sense.
When I'm sad, I'm sorry. Even though that means shouting in my car because I walked I passed an ice cream taste she enjoyed. Even if it means crying on my birthday because I realized it was the first time I would not hear from him. Even if that means not crying for another reason, except to lose my brother. I let it flow because I'm alive and I feel.
And when I'm happy, you think I'm happier than a three-year-old amongst the precipices. Because of all the human emotions I can endure, the one that I would like to strengthen more is the wild, epic, liberated happiness.
They say sadness is like waves, and frankly I could not explain it more prominently than that. As a professional traveler, the thing I can tell you about the waves is that they have two extremes. if you work with the waves that flow and forgive, if you fight against them, they will pull you down in the depths.
This is the way you move with grace through sorrow. The struggle creates a deep abyss of pain, the flow creates a space for forgiveness. I'm not saying there will be no pain. there will be deafening pain to endure this walk. And on the other side of this pain is forgiveness and wild happiness that I like to believe that the lost pieces send us. That's how I'm strong through my sorrow.
I'm crazy, sad and happy sometimes in a day. I feel pain but I'm so passionate, just as my brother would have liked. I'm not strong because I'm positive. I'm strong because I feel it all. The power is hidden in the depths of any emotion. Tap on each stream.