18 years ago today my older brother, Sean, took his life. It’s hard to believe it’s been 18 years. I think back on that week and I don’t remember very much, in fact I don’t remember very much before 1995. It’s almost as if my brain wiped everything away at that moment.
I do recall my parents coming into my bedroom that night sitting on the end of my bed and waking me up at 11:07pm (I vividly remember seeing my Sony digital clock next to my bed) and telling me the news. I remember my Aunt Kathy making me a sandwich that week, a funny joke Kevin M. made during his eulogy at the funeral and sitting with my friend Dave B. at the repast. That’s it.
Kevin had given a great eulogy and I had always been envious and proud of people who could hold it together during a very sad time. That same year my grandfather had died. I had written a letter to him but couldn’t read it aloud at the funeral knowing I would break so I asked my mother to.
My original plan was to write a eulogy for Sean but after writing a couple paragraphs I didn’t feel I was being authentic. The truth is I am still angry. I’m angry that he did what he did. I’m angry that he’s missing on Christmas morning as we open gifts. I’m angry that he isn’t at my 5Ks cheering for me and angry that he’ll never be there for my future children. I’m angry at the pain this has caused my family. This is why I raise money for suicide prevention/awareness because I don’t want anyone else to experience this.
I am not an angry person but deep down I’m still pissed off. How do we get past a death? Do we ever?
