Almost a Year.

It’s been almost a year since my brother passed away.

I had this idea that I would write about it constantly. I thought I’d write a series of blogs to help me cope.

In fact, I have a series of posts in draft and notes scribbled on post-its and in journals.

I know that I desperately need to get this pain out of my body – to shed it from my mind and my heart. But all of those thoughts are too raw. They are much too raw for me to share, because if I share them, then I have to face the loss.

The loss of him is something I never want to be real. We all went to the hospital to say our goodbyes… but all that was left was a body, not him. He’d been gone for hours. I couldn’t face that emptiness.

I stayed in the doorway of the hospital room, only seeing the bed and his feet covered in a sheet.

In my mind, I’ve decided to cope in a rather geeky way. I imagine he’s off with the Doctor, having adventures in the TARDIS and across time and space.

I know he wouldn’t want my grief, but nights like tonight I am unable to keep it in check. I am unable to compartmentalize and reality hits me like a tsunami of tears.

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Comments

  1. This breaks my heart. I know the things hardest for me to write about are the things which I most need to write about. The words come. Eventually. It doesn’t mean an end to the pain, or that you’ve processed it, or anything at all. It just means you’ve reached a point where you are taking ownership of the feelings that are wrecking you. I’m not sure the processing ever stops. And the pain doesn’t go away. So keep writing. Even if you don’t finish. Or publish. Or look at it again. Writing will spur you to think about it in different ways. To notice the ways your thinking changes over time. Eventually, it will spill over. Saying prayers for you on this. And hoping that he IS out with the Doctor.

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