Grief: What is Life, Now?

I'm my mother's only child. I like to imagine that she and my aunt made a deal where she informed her that she was only doing the motherhood thing once and my aunt said, "Say less". So, to ensure I never felt alone, my aunt took three for the team and gave me brothers.

Growing up it was always, "Mai and the Boys". My cousins were my brothers and honestly, I can't recall many memories growing up that didn't involve them. You have the oldest, who is goofy and sure to give you a laugh and a headache—the second oldest who is the wild card—Me, a combination of everything,—and then the baby of the bunch. The quiet, malmannered, chill, go-with-the-flow, extremely adorable curly-haired chocolate drop. Each of us is wildly different from the other but a necessary part of the foursome.

What we never could have expected is that one day one of us would have to depart from the physical realm. Obviously, no one escapes death but neither of us could have anticipated the baby of the bunch would leave us merely two weeks after his 35th birthday.

His cancer diagnosis shocked us all last year and I hoped and prayed for a miracle but it didn't come. Now, days post his transition, I grieve more than just his transition. I grieve at the realization that memories and moments created with my family, are just that-memories and moments. I grieve the moments and memories I didn't create. I grieve what could have been. I grieve what I felt should have been his life and our life with him.

Life took me away for a bit but then suddenly, I was back. Life brought me back to help him, support him, and heal me. The last ten months gave me back my brothers. Filling a void I didn't realize I even had. I had missed them. Doing life with them, trying new foods, watching TV, laughing, loving, and reminiscing about old memories while simultaneously creating new ones. Each memory sure to carry and comfort me when grief reminds me that those are the only things I have left. So, while they have been extremely difficult to live through, I'm forever grateful for the gift of these last ten months.

Death teaches us that life and time are gifts. Contending with the reality of my NEW normal while subconsciously thinking, "What is life, now" and wondering what could have been is a harsh reality that I am still processing. The journey of grief looks different for everyone BUT I encourage you to live and to love...often and out loud.

To my baby, my brother- I miss you immensely already! My hero. My angel. Strength personified. Thank you for the laughs and the love. The memories and reminding me of what truly matters.

I love you more 💙