Day two of wedding week has ended, and I have two sleepy kitties purring next to me as I write this. It's been a long day, to say the least. I had to head up to Fort Collins for our marriage license (long story), which was three hours in the car, total. Not my idea of a fun time. I'm still not sure if I'm mad or happy that it took me fewer than 10 minutes to park, get into the building, get the license, and back in the car.
I picked my parents up on the way home, and they spent a few hours helping me clean, and I helped my dad figure out his smartphone (!!!!!!) and download the Lyft app and create an account for him.
After they left, I went to the airport to pick up one of my best friends, Ryan, and his girlfriend, Leslie. Ryan is officiating, and Leslie is the photographer. You may remember Ryan from the blog posts on our two near-death experiences together- the incident of the flying Uhaul, and the time we narrowly escaped severe frostbite in the mountains earlier this year.
We all went to bed shortly after getting back from the airport, and I have settled in to write a post that needs to be written, but I'm not sure I'm going to like. My therapist strongly suggested I do this before the wedding, though, so here goes.
This is a letter from me, to my big brother, Matt.
Dear Matt,
I'm getting married this week, can you believe it?! And I just turned 34 too! You used to think people in their 30s were so old. You'd be 43 now, if you were still alive. But you'll never experience aging, you'll be 19 forever. That seemed so grown up to me when you went, but it seems so young now. You were just a kid.
I'd give my right arm to have you here with me this week. You're supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be dead and buried over a thousand miles away. You should be here tomorrow, when everyone comes to our house for dinner. You with your big smile, and your blue eyes. You should be making things confusing, by being the third Matt out of fewer than 20 people. You should be here.
But you won't be.
You would love Andy. I can just picture you guys laughing and joking, and ganging up on me. You would approve of him. He has a good job, and has his life together. It took him a little while, but he did a good job, in the end. He's only a couple years younger than you would be. I would give anything for you to be here with us.
But you won't be.
I grew up with two siblings, Andy grew up with three. All three of his siblings are coming. None of mine are. Neither of you are going to be here. I didn't grow up an only child. I have lost both of you. You to death, and Anna to other things. You should both be here.
But you won't be.
You would be so proud of me. Shortly before you died, you looked me in the eyes and made me promise you I wouldn't grow up to be a loser like you- your words. You weren't a loser. You were hurting, and doing your best to keep things together. You ultimately failed, but you weren't a loser. You were my big brother. You would be so proud of my Master's degree. You'd be so proud of how I'm training in the gym and dealing with my illnesses. You'd be so proud of my choice of a life partner. You would be proud of how I haven't let things hold me back. You should be here, beaming with pride.
But you won't be.
I'll be thinking of you, Big Brother, when we are all gathered at dinner tomorrow, and when we are gathered at Sprague Lake saying our vows on Thursday. I'll be thinking about how much I love you and how lucky I was to have you, for nearly ten years of my life. You should be there, in my heart and in my head, with me in my soul, and in this person you helped me become.
And you will be.
I picked my parents up on the way home, and they spent a few hours helping me clean, and I helped my dad figure out his smartphone (!!!!!!) and download the Lyft app and create an account for him.
After they left, I went to the airport to pick up one of my best friends, Ryan, and his girlfriend, Leslie. Ryan is officiating, and Leslie is the photographer. You may remember Ryan from the blog posts on our two near-death experiences together- the incident of the flying Uhaul, and the time we narrowly escaped severe frostbite in the mountains earlier this year.
We all went to bed shortly after getting back from the airport, and I have settled in to write a post that needs to be written, but I'm not sure I'm going to like. My therapist strongly suggested I do this before the wedding, though, so here goes.
This is a letter from me, to my big brother, Matt.
Dear Matt,
I'm getting married this week, can you believe it?! And I just turned 34 too! You used to think people in their 30s were so old. You'd be 43 now, if you were still alive. But you'll never experience aging, you'll be 19 forever. That seemed so grown up to me when you went, but it seems so young now. You were just a kid.
I'd give my right arm to have you here with me this week. You're supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be dead and buried over a thousand miles away. You should be here tomorrow, when everyone comes to our house for dinner. You with your big smile, and your blue eyes. You should be making things confusing, by being the third Matt out of fewer than 20 people. You should be here.
But you won't be.
You would love Andy. I can just picture you guys laughing and joking, and ganging up on me. You would approve of him. He has a good job, and has his life together. It took him a little while, but he did a good job, in the end. He's only a couple years younger than you would be. I would give anything for you to be here with us.
But you won't be.
I grew up with two siblings, Andy grew up with three. All three of his siblings are coming. None of mine are. Neither of you are going to be here. I didn't grow up an only child. I have lost both of you. You to death, and Anna to other things. You should both be here.
But you won't be.
You would be so proud of me. Shortly before you died, you looked me in the eyes and made me promise you I wouldn't grow up to be a loser like you- your words. You weren't a loser. You were hurting, and doing your best to keep things together. You ultimately failed, but you weren't a loser. You were my big brother. You would be so proud of my Master's degree. You'd be so proud of how I'm training in the gym and dealing with my illnesses. You'd be so proud of my choice of a life partner. You would be proud of how I haven't let things hold me back. You should be here, beaming with pride.
But you won't be.
I'll be thinking of you, Big Brother, when we are all gathered at dinner tomorrow, and when we are gathered at Sprague Lake saying our vows on Thursday. I'll be thinking about how much I love you and how lucky I was to have you, for nearly ten years of my life. You should be there, in my heart and in my head, with me in my soul, and in this person you helped me become.
And you will be.
Beautiful tribute to your brother <3
ReplyDeleteTears.
ReplyDeleteA testimony to how you have carried forward the blessing of having a brother in the midst of never-ending grief and loss - beautifully said. May the gift of a new family enlarge your capacity to know, give and receive love as family, with all its dysfunctions and differences, it is a journey into better discovering who you are and who you choose to be - so be your dauntless self! Proud of you, dear one! Thanks for including us in your family!
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