This is the time of the year that I jump off of Facebook. From August 4th until August 15th, my Facebook memories are filled of posts about my brother’s time in the hospital. They aren’t posts that I want to read every year. I took my time to process all of the thoughts and emotions with those specific posts last year. Click here to see that post.
I however did not account for snapchat memories this year. Snapchat always shares memories so sporadically I always forget of the possibility of my grief being triggered from it. Last night, this image appeared.
It was in fact the last time I was at that hospital. My brother died two days later. I cried in two different hospitals that weekend.
Seeing this picture immediately took me back to that week. I’m not sure that you can tell, but my eyes were swollen. They were swollen most of that week and the next. I remember the complete and utter chaos that would follow this picture for the next 40ish hours. I can tell you the song that was on repeat for those 40 hours. I can recount all of the heated discussions that were had. I can tell you about all of the times my mom would burst into tears saying that they were just going to let her son die. I can tell you which people told me I had to be strong for my parents because they were going to need me to be strong… because apparently losing a sibling is no big deal. Please note my use of sarcasm, losing a sibling is a BIG freaking deal. I can tell you all about the car ride to the hospital on that Sunday that he died. I can tell you all about the ride home, the people who came to visit, and the complete sense of brokenness and heartbreak that was felt in my family’s home the next morning and for the weeks and months that followed.
I think my body recalled the events from August 4th- August 15th, 2021 long before my mind did this year. My body has been out of whack since August began. Maybe because my body knew what was coming? Maybe because I have tried so hard to process the trauma of my brother’s death and to take captive every thought that courses through my head, my body decided to make me aware what time of year it was physically since I was battling it mentally. Even now as I’m writing this, my heart is racing from anxiety because my body knows what tomorrow will bring.
I told my therapist this week that this year the grief felt different. In years past, it was almost like I was on edge from the beginning of August until sometime after the 15th. Someone mention covid? Bring on an anxiety attack. Someone make fun of covid or speak lightly of it? I’m fighting the urge to go from Bruce Banner to the Hulk and/on fighting the urge to tell them what a complete idiot I think they are. I’m not sure that I can say that on the internet, but I’m trying to be true to my story. The last 3 years it’s almost like I spent part of August in survival mode. I just have to get through the 15th and everything will be okay. This year… I don’t know what specifically has triggered my griefy moments or the moments of tears. I’m minding my own business driving down the road, and next thing I know, Thomas comes to mind, and tears quickly follow.
I’m not sure which scenario for grief and dealing with this time of year is better… On edge for half the month and knowing what to expect, or this whole “Surprise! Let’s bring your brother to mind” out of nowhere nonsense I’ve been dealing with. I feel like both maybe have their pros and cons, and depending on your personality type, one could be better than the other for different people. I have learned and continue learning though, that grief is like waves. Grief ebbs and flows and it’s unpredictable even though I like to try and fit it to some model of what I think it should look like.
I don’t know how to describe what it’s like to lose a sibling. I’m not sure that we have the correct words to accurately describe the wide range of emotions that will be felt. But I do know that the Lord is near to the brokenhearted. He is a refuge and source of strength. If I’m triggered, the Lord is still near. If I start crying out of nowhere, He is still near. While my grief will ebb and flow, the Lord will not. He will stay the same whether I’m having those griefy days or not. The Lord is faithful through the ages.
Tomorrow, August 15th, is the day my brother took his last breath and then met his maker, creator and savior face to face. That’s 4 years without Thomas’ laugh. 4 years without his constant sarcasm. 4 years since I’ve picked up my phone to hear him say “Goober, you didn’t tell me such and such” after he barked up the wrong tree with one of our family members. 4 years of music theory and piano questions that I couldn’t ask him the answer to. 4 years without my big brother here to daily aggravate me. But… it’s also 4 years that Thomas has been in the presence of the Lord. It’s 4 years that he has been where all of us long to be. Thomas ran his race and then was called home.
I miss you and love you 3,000, bro.
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Grief. Going. Healing. 
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