life goes on

You've heard that saying before. And it does. But when you lose someone you want it to stop. Everything moves way too fast. That's how I felt this last 5 days. Slow down I kept thinking. I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet.

We drove to Michigan on Thursday and Friday...because it takes about 15 hrs and I didn't want to do it all in one day. Plus, if we did all the driving on Friday I would miss the viewing. As we got closer I kept feeling this knot in the pit of my stomach. We arrived at the funeral home around 7:15 I think. I didn't want to go in. Because if I stayed back in Georgia I could pretend it didn't happen. But it did. As I walked up I saw this:

And I had to take a moment to collect myself. As I walked in I saw some family and we chatted for a few. Then I went in and saw my brother. And I had no reaction other than "that's not him". He didn't have the piercings in his face that my dad hated (and I couldn't stand, too!). He wasn't wearing his usual t-shirt. His hair was neatly combed. It wasn't him. I half expected him to sit up and say "hey Shelle!" like he always did when I saw him. 

I wondered how I would react when I saw him. And I felt bad for not crying or feeling much of anything. Again, I think it was because it just wasn't "him" anymore.

The next day at the funeral was another story. When they pulled that casket out of the hearse, it was real. And I said goodbye to him for the last time. I kissed him on the forehead and told him that I'd see him again one day. And I asked God to take care of him for me.

I didn't want to be there. I didn't sing in church. I barely was able to get out any of the responses during the Mass. It wasn't right. This wasn't right. He's 29. I didn't get to see him as an adult. Sure, he was technically an adult. But I was still waiting for him to get a "real" job and settle down and grow up a bit.

But instead I watched as two parents said goodbye to their only son. Something a parent should never have to do.

My kids had to say goodbye to their uncle. I had to say goodbye to my only brother.

We all got jipped. I never got to know my Uncle Jimmy. He died when I was a bit younger than my kids are now. And my kids never got to know their Uncle Jimmy. The irony wasn't lost on me. And it made me angry. It still makes me angry.

And I watched as they put my brother in the ground. Somewhere he shouldn't be right now.

My kids were so great. Although they were horrible on the drive up it was the little things that meant so much. Like my son coming up to me out of nowhere and giving me a hug. My daughter who didn't complain once as her feet got soaked walking across the cemetery full of wet grass in her sandals.

And that was it. My brother, who had a huge heart and would do anything for anyone, is gone. And if you read through all of this ~ thank you for letting me share this with you.