A day of remembrance

October 3, 2011

Seven.

The number of times I’ve reflected very carefully on this day. The years since Brandon was in a family picture. The number of years for which I haven’t had an accurate answer to the question, “how many kids are in your family?” The number of years since my brother died.

But it’s been six years that I’ve told myself that that first year was the worst year of my life, and six times it’s been true.

It’s been five years that I haven’t dreaded today’s date.

It’s been four years that Brandon has missed out on having the coolest nephew around.

It’s been three years that I’ve only remembered what today was the day before or day of.

It’s been two years that I’ve been older now than Brandon was when he died.

It’s been one year since I jumped from 13,000 feet to really experience living, in commemoration of Brandon’s decision to stop that experience altogether.

And today is the first time I’ve been through this day completely on my own. Everyone else who knows that today is significant to me is 8000 miles away. While that’s a depressing thought in itself, today hasn’t been a depressing day in the least.  Thousands of times I’ve wondered if my brother would be proud of me. I asked myself that same question today, and every part of me said yes. It’s a good feeling.

Of course I miss him today. I miss him every day! And it’s painful, but only when I allow it to be. Whereas I used to feel out of control of so many things in my life because of what happened, today I know that I’m more in control than most, and it is because of what happened.

I love being alive, and that feeling doesn’t leave me! It might be bold of me to say this, but I don’t think I would know that feeling by this point in my life if it weren’t for my brother.

People say that every cloud has a silver lining, and seven years may be a long time to take in finding it, but I have. (Although it is a very small silver lining…)

Miss you Brandon. But I know you’re watching, and I know you’re smiling.