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.