It’s been 1,461 days since our last conversation.
It’s been 1,461 days since I told you that you’d be okay because you were at the hospital now.
It’s been 1,461 days since you thanked me for bringing you to the hospital and apologized for me having to do it.
It’s been 1,461 days since the last time I saw you not intubated.
It’s been 1,461 days since I had my first anxiety attack from dropping you off at the hospital.
It’s been 1,461 days since my life began to drastically change.
It’s been 1,450 days since you took your last breath and everything changed.
It’s been 1,450 days since the doctor told us they did all that they could, but you didn’t make it.
From August 4th to August 15th, there is an extra layer of feeling griefy. The memories. The flashbacks. The questions of what would life be like if you were still alive.
Grief is hard. Covid still causes anxiety. I still have the urge to punch people and call them an idiot when the make jokes about Covid or speak lightly of it. Losing my big brother changed my life.
In the last 1,461 days, I’ve come to know the Lord like never before. I’ve seen his faithfulness. I’ve seen Him as sustainer and provider. I’ve seen Him as my refuge and strength. I’ve seen Him as my comforter.
The last 1,461 days have not always been easy, but the Lord has always been faithful and good. The last 1,461 days I’ve shed more tears than I realized were humanly possible. I’m not sure how, but it’s almost been 4 years since we lost you, Thomas. I know you are safe and secure in Heaven and I’ll see you there one day.
The day to day is easier. But there are still big, hard days when you are missed. I’m looking forward to Heaven when there will be no more tears and no more pain. I love you 3000, brother. I’ll see you again when you see me.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18
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Grief. Going. Healing. 
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