Writing is so cathartic. It amazes me how if no one ever reads this blog, I still need to write. My writing is not really always for my friends and family. Sometimes it is for me. Today this blog is for me.
When Kevin, my brother was getting treatment at Memorial-Sloan Kettering, we met some amazing people. Families like ours that were in a time warp that only others in the same situation could understand. My family dynamics was such that Kevin and I were very, very close. We had an age gap that in other situations may not have relented to such a closeness. But when I was eighteen and Kevin only eight, my mom got terribly ill. She never was quite the same, so when I was home on weekends or for the summer from University then Kevin and I were together as much as possible. It created a bond that was there until his death.
Just before Kevin got ill he stayed with us on his spring break. He was even considering moving to Georgia to be closer to us and live somewhere different. It was never to be.
Kevin passed on three years ago today. As much as time goes by, this day is a reminder of a loss so great. I am a faithful woman and very thankful for the time Kevin and I had. I would always prefer having him for the short period of time on this earth, than not at all. Still the tears come. Bizarre. Loss is bizarre. There is such great sorrow that cannot be contained.
So I write. I write so I can mourn for only this little bit until I have to get back to life. I believe that it is OK to mourn for our loved ones, as long as it doesn’t come full force forever. My faith tells me that God is in control so I know that all is good. Yet, I still mourn for myself. I mourn for the time lost, for the sharing we do not have. I mourn for my kids, who will not see him as they age. I mourn for the hole in my family. For the hole is so big. Today, I mourn.
He made me a better person, a better sister. I am a better mom because of Kevin.
There is an artist. Her name is Eleanor Adams. She lost her son Alex to the same dreaded cancer Kevin had…Ewing’s Sarcoma, not that any cancer is not dreaded. She has a gallery on the upper west side. On her website is an amazing self portrait called Under Construction. It is beautiful. By chance on this day I found my way to that picture. So poignant. So perfect.
We are all under construction and the death of a loved one, or a tragedy changes us. I pray and feel for me it is for the good. Always for the good.
So today I think of my brother, Kevin. A smile on my face now. Thank God for writing. Thank God for Kevin.
XO
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