tThis Sunday 5/16/16 marks the one year anniversary of Joe’s departure from this world. I miss him terribly and thought I was doing “better” a few months ago only to find the weeks leading up to this date reminding me of the last few times we spoke and all of that searching one does when you experience losing a loved-one to suicide.
You go over the months, weeks, and hours that preceded the event to look for signs you should have noticed like the work of understanding why the space shuttle exploded back in 1986.
I can recall going to a small concert at the Good Shepherd Center on 5/7/15 and getting a plain untroubled message from Joe, “Yo, it’s me on Thursday night at 11 o’clock my time. Calling to see what’s up. Talk to you later.” Called him back when I got home and he once again asked about the epilogue to the book he wanted me to read.
Told him I liked the honesty and open sharing it had, that I had read about 15 pages so far. He said it was important to him that I continue reading it…which to me had me thinking we’d be talking about it more in the weeks to come.
8 days later he was gone.
At times laying in bed imagining answering a stranger’s question “Do you have siblings?” I hear myself say some variant of “I have a sister and used to have a brother….” then it feels so surreal. Like I know it happened yet still don’t believe it; wish it wasn’t so.
Last night walking to and from a concert near tall buildings, picturing my brother falling from on high to the hard ground below is so visceral and I wish to be free of that horrific feeling and imagery.
Then it is back to the day-to-day life and carrying on, looking intact from the outside, painfully damaged on the inside. Knowing this of myself it reminds me that I don’t know what that other person I encounter day to day is going through despite all appearances.