June 1st is such a strange day in my universe. This is the 1 year anniversary (though not quite the right word) of my brother's passing. I know that I should be feeling sad but I am not. Troy was in such a lot of pain when he left this life that I feel it would be cruel to wish he were still here. Memories of him creep in day to day. Some of them are strong while others begin to fade.
It is hard to explain to my children why Grandma is crying and why we need to be extra good today. My son is especially interested in talking about why Uncle Troy died and many other related questions. We have not sheltered them from the truth of death. I do not know if it is inappropriate to be so honest with young children, though they do seem to handle the context much better than some adults.
My children humble me with their conceptualization of the world. They integrate everything from the mundane to the not so mundane. They are constantly observant (except of course when I am asking them to do something). I find myself having to watch everything I say or do because it's not just the bad words that they are picking up anymore.
In the end time marches on, with or without us. I realize that I am at peace with my brother's death and I wish that I could give that peace to others. I cannot fathom what it is to be a mother or father losing a son. I cannot know what my sister feels in regards to losing her older brother. I cannot make it ok. I can live in the good memories. I can get up every day and LIVE my life. I am the lucky one.
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