Grieving The Future

When you lose someone, you grieve the what if's. All the things you should have, could have, would have done differently. When it comes to the pain of losing my brother, the only thing I would've done differently is to cross his comfort zone and yank him out of his despair.
Charley is a very independent soul who did things the way he liked, traveled to the places he wanted, cooked meals for himself (and everyone) to the betterment of a healthy diet, spent hard-earned money on quality lifestyle items, pushed his own limits with envious tenacity, spoke what he felt needed to be heard and loved with such color that I fear I will never know that love again. It is because of his character that no one knew he was in the corner of the darkest place known to the mind. And no one knew because there was no need to share those thoughts with anyone, no need to ask for "help" even though that sounds like such a simple gesture. And when it comes to generalizing "anyone" I sometimes wish I were part of that segment so that all I know of Charley were nothing but good, happy feelings to the very last day. I, on the other hand, experienced his sadness and loss in his last few weeks and it's become such a thin line for me, in that I was privy to that deep world and also exposed to his facial expressions, his sadness, his weight loss, his half smiles, his empty laughter, his long gazes at Mia. I knew I was the only witness to a reflection I had never seen before, but didn't think he had fallen so far, so quickly. And for this, I guilt myself and blame myself for not having done more, pushed more, been more proactive, asked him more questions, held him longer, expressed anger in his defense. What I did was love him harder and be there for him. Just listen and spent more time with him in those last few weeks than I had in his last year. What I didn't do was judge and criticize and tell him that "everything will be okay", because I'm smart enough to know not to say such silly things to someone you openly embrace. Truth is, you hope for circumstances to improve, but you never know. It doesn't make me a pessimist, it makes me a realist.

With the holidays behind me and almost 90% avoided, I'm free to say that the easiest thing about the holidays for me, was to escape them. My family and I cannot bear the idea of staying in a place we call home but feel otherwise. Charley would normally work either Christmas Eve or Day, so we'd celebrate with him as a family on his day off. With the rest of our lives facing his days off, we cannot stay here, in his home or my parents home, without his presence. Could not stick around and watch others around us glee and chant their words of Merry and Happy. No, we needed to ditch L.A. and fly to a place where Charley spent a few days last year competing in the San Francisco Urbanathalon. He invited me last year to go cheer him on, but hotels were booked and it was expensive as a last-minute trip. So I didn't go, regretfully. Another regret.

As we explored the city with Charley in our minds, we were also very conscious that he was not with us. We didn't speak of him much, but we didn't have to; our faces were sad and longing. I experienced a flashback on the way to Ghiradelli Square and invisibly reached for my brother's hand and yearned to hear his voice- as I always do. My family and I were traveling away from home and creating new memories with one another, memories that didn't include my brother's jokes, his smile, his walk, his presence. And it pained me to my joints that my body grew tired from my longing for him. Nevermind the hilly hikes or 24/7 walking, my heart ached.
It's the past of 32 years that I have with my brother, but no future and no new memories to build and hang proudly on the wall to admire every now and again. The future is such a lonely realm that I wish I could pause time so that I don't have to face that pain. An everyday pain. And I despise the future because he obviously won't be in it with me anymore. Everyday I'm sad..it's my base feeling. Layered on top of that is pain, grief, denial, physical exhaustion, love for Mia, a little love for myself, rawness, worthlessness, low self-esteem and more sadness. Endless layers that I will eventually work though and adjust to. But for now, I'm perfectly comfortable believing Charley is here, still, so that I will continue to create memories with him.