Dias de los muertos

I read a post last night that felt like it was talking directly to me.

And then I responded, like this:

I woke this morning (mourning) to the thought that I had not had time to build an altar for my brother, Greg -- who I lost six weeks ago.  In some way, it is so fresh that I fill my hours and days with other thoughts so as not to fall in the pit of mourning.  Yesterday, I was driving and not thinking about him -- or not actively thinking about him -- and a song came on the radio.  It was a song that I loved as a 13 year old -- and that my brother once teased me for loving and at the same time called into the radio station to request for me.  For the first time in five weeks, I felt him near. 

So this morning, when I woke with that thought, I felt guilty.  Had I really not had time? Or had I just not had courage?

A friend asked me not too long ago did I feel guilty about something -- I haven't been sleeping well since we lost my brother -- and I bristled at his suggestion.

But, yes, I do feel guilty... I would trade places with him in a heartbeat -- his life seems so much more meaningful than mine -- and I cannot hope to reach a shadow of his self in the lives of my sister-in-law or my niece or my nephew.  Even though I cannot replace him, still I need to love and support them as much as I can -- in his honor -- if not as he would have.

But, I am miles and miles and states away from them in my PhD program which seems increasingly irrelevant in my life.  So, yes, again, I feel guilty.

But mostly I feel a terrible emptiness where his life, his love and his support have lived in my life.  I am outrageously angry, sad, abandoned and and and...

Thank you for the space to feel this ... I so desperately needed to share.

Where he would be if he could.

Five in 1999