This Grief Thing

I had full intentions on making my next blog post a happy, funny one. I wanted to share the humorous side of Tim and my relationship.  But then I had one of those meltdown days. Gabby woke up at 3:45 am Wednesday morning and decided to stay awake until we both finally fell back asleep around 8:00 am. During that early morning nap I had my first very vivid dream in which Tim appeared. My mom and I were at an airport waiting for Tim, my mom started to walk away and I started to follow her but then out of the corner of my eye I saw Tim approaching me! He was carrying an enormous hockey bag and he walked up to me and hugged me.  Then the next part of the dream I didn't even see, I only heard a phone ringing: I was calling Tim and I heard him pick up and say, "Hello?" It was so real it startled me awake and I had to glance over at my dresser to check and make sure the newspaper article about his death was still there. Yes, still there and then I started repeating my internal dialogue: "My brother is dead. Tim is dead."

Tim on his way to hockey when he and Kelly lived in San Francisco.
Photo taken by Kelly Starr, June 2008. 

I have to repeat this to myself often throughout the day because it's so easy to trick myself into thinking he's just out there living his life and just a phone call away. That morning I decided to call his number assuming it had already been disconnected but I was shocked to hear it go straight to his voice mail. Hearing his voice made it seem like he was "right there"- how could he possibly be dead? He sounds so alive! "WHAT THE FUCK!?" I screamed in my head (at least this time, sometimes I say it out loud). Right after I woke up from these dreams I had felt at peace and even a little happy- Tim visited me! I got to see him, feel his presence but it quickly spiraled into sobbing tears, anger, and disgust.

I thought I understood the pain and sorrow people feel when a loved one dies. I thought I understood because my dad died, but I was wrong. Grieving as a child is entirely different. You keep your grief hidden- it's too scary to let your emotions go when all of the adults around you are crying. You have to maintain control, swallow the tears and smile. If you cry, it will make the ones around you sad and there is already enough sadness. At least this has been my experience and I've heard the same from those who have gone through similar losses as children. 

Via Pinterest

As a grieving adult, I am completely humbled by the experience. It is one of the most emotionally exhausting things I have gone through- it is also one of the most isolating. In those moments of desperation when I just want to scream and I can't cry any harder in fear that I'll scare Gabby and Michael is at work where I don't want to bother him- I am lost. I don't want to burden my mom or Kelly (my sister-in-law, Tim's wife) as they are fighting their own grieving battles and I hesitate to bother my friends because who wants to listen to my depressing shit?  I've learned that there are very few people who are willing and able to take your hand and walk with you through the grief. Those who can have been there themselves and can embrace the ugly, the scary, and the tears. However I've been surprised by how many people also ignore my grief. For those who see me and know what happened to Tim but say nothing...it just reinforces the isolation. In those moments where I see "normal life" unfolding before me I feel as though I'm stranded on a small, dark island watching ships pass by and no one bothers to stop and rescue me or even acknowledge my entrapment.

Via Pinterest.

Enough time has passed that I don't cry immediately upon waking but only a few minutes will pass before reality hits, "My brother is dead. Tim is dead". I still cry at least two to three times a day- I never knew it was possible to cry for 71 (and counting...) consecutive days. I am getting out of the house, attempting normalcy but my world is totally different. So I ask of you, readers, if you know someone grieving ask how they are doing. Please be patient, grievers will never "get over it" or "move on" but we will adapt to this new life, we will find the silver lining, it's just going to take awhile. I had thirty-one years with my brother and I imagine it will take at least thirty-one more years to experience a day where Tim isn't on my mind every hour of the day. I'm telling myself it's okay to cry, be angry, be selfish, that these are things I have to do and anyone who can support me in this journey of grief- I thank you from the bottom of my heart.