Life Is Divided Into Two

I used to have a life that was predictable. Wake up by the sound of Mia asking for Elmo, feed her, feed myself, get ready, start day, run around, dinner, feed Mia, bathe and put Mia to bed, exhale, and finally clean house until I'm depleted of all energy.
In between those days I'd spend time with Charley exercising, having lunch together, cooking for one another, just being present..and those alone times with him were rare because I always have Mia. But then again, he loves Mia like she were his own and the three of us would spend hours together. We were a unit- the three of us. Charley and I...we were one.
"Now" I have a life without my brother's loving presence and voice. Mia aside, life is pretty gray and feels empty. This is called the second half of my life. This is the aftermath of having no choice but to someday accept that Charley's hugs and laughter will never be tangible again except for the memories stuck on replay and imaginary conversations I have with him. And I have a lot of them; from what I'm doing at any given moment to telling him how I feel and what my plans are. I even argue with him and talk back or interrupt what he might say to me. I miss his adamant tone and confident nature. I miss looking at the male version of my reflection. I miss having my role model in my life. I miss my brother.

Missing my brother generates a hundred different thoughts and feelings, but absolutely none can express how I feel. Even if I were to sync all the words: difficult, hard, challenging, painful, devastated, tragic, unfortunate, desperation, sad, hurt, etc, etc...words don't rightfully describe my state, nor do words comfort me. Not anyone's faith or assurance. Not a poem or happy memory. But I do find seconds of comfort by smelling his worn shirts, driving his truck and pushing on the gas when a dip intercedes, burying my face into his jackets, staring at his shoes and picturing when he last wore them, flipping through his books and pretending to be his eyes, standing at the kitchen stove cooking a meal and envisioning him wash the dishes and finally, picturing him sitting across from me on the living room sofa, smiling at me. That's my favorite. Him smiling at me.
Keeping Charley in my heart and in the forefront of my thoughts, seems to have also stimulated my magnetic field of energy. Losing him to suicide comes with a natural responsibility to help others. It's simple- I couldn't save him so I will try to save others via Charley. Case in point: over the last 24 hours I have been placed in front of two people who spoke to me about their suicidal experiences. One is a mother who confided in me that her son unsuccessfully tried to overdose three months ago- and she told me this even before I told her how Charley passed. Again, I fought for her son with my words of encouragement and honesty. Pushed her to think positively and not to buy into the ignorance others had bestowed upon her that her son is a coward and selfish. Later that night she sent me a message that she cried all the way home during her drive with me in mind and feels so thankful that her son is alive.
This afternoon I went to visit Charley at his grave site and cried, as I always do, and asked for forgiveness. A young man sat a few rows down mourning his own loss. He came over to me to offer words of comfort, and within a few seconds we each realized we knew each other some 14 years ago. Within that minute, he dropped to his knees and held me as I cried in his arms and released with someone I so obviously needed at the moment. It was a very touching moment as he opened up and admitted to me that he, also, feels empty and has dark thoughts but confides in no one in fear that he will be seen as weak. I offered every thought I could as he sat patiently with me and my sobs. And then he said, "You won't believe this, but you just changed my life". Was that fate that intervened? Was it divine intervention? Was it Charley who asked me to visit at the same moment this young man was there? I would've easily kept driving home past the cemetery and I would've missed this very special encounter. And I am so blessed that I made that sharp left turn into Charley's open arms. He is saving lives, still, and I am helping him.