July 27, 2008

I orchestrated what I might have the courage to write in this post, at least fifty times today.  I tried and tried to come up with the perfect words that might surmise the multitude of emotions which have been swirling tenaciously around my mind and circling my family's psyches throughout the day.  I wanted my words to reflect exactly what we all might feel, as another "first" approached reminding us each about where the oozing raw spots still lay open...unprotected by the small amounts of healing which have taken place over the past five short months since my beloved brother, Robert's, death.  I wanted this to be possible and right and healing.   And then my eighteen year old daughter called me crying because she misses her Uncle Robbie.  She was not with us, and it hit her suddenly and damn hard.  

Today would have been Robert's forty-second birthday.  He should have been forty-two.  He should have been allowed to turn forty-two.  We should be celebrating our July birthdays together, as we always had.  He should still be but who am I to question?

In order to keep myself from being sucked out into the cold murky waters of the undertow, and to save my family from some written word which might cause them tears which they might not fall into without my help, I am going to abstain from saying very much right now.  My husband and our Angels read my blog, and what I write sometimes elicits certain responses in them which might be hard for me to justify, today.  In other words, I want to be very gentle.   

So, we will spend the day by ear.  Doing what feels right and skipping the things that don't.  And with a little bit of hope, we will be able to gaze up to the sky at the end of the day, and know that we did not spend the day without my little brother.  Instead of being pulled out to sea in an uncontrollable roll of the waves, I would like to look back on this day with the ethereal feeling of flight and hope.  The hope that Robert knows how much we love him.  The hope that my nieces will be okay.  The hope that we will be allowed to see them once again without retaining an attorney.  The hope that a family which once was, will be allowed to be again.  The hope that my dear sweet Angel Nieces will once again, have the opportunity to get to know their Daddy through the closest person to their Daddy with a shared history.  Me, their Auntie Deb.  Keeper of a treasure trove of gifts which will be passed along lovingly and with the funny sense of humor that I shared with my only sibling.  I make this promise on the day of my brother's birthday.  I will be here for as long as it takes and for as difficult as the battle may become in order to be an intricate and supportive Aunt for my brother's daughters.  

I never quit the people whom I love.  Never, ever...

Remembering your birthday, Rob, and promising you once again that Mark and I and our girls will do everything within our power to help your girls grow up around people who truly care about their well-being.  

I love you, little brother.