Tuesday, April 12, 2011

April 12th ... already

Today marks the 19th anniversary of my brother's death. 

I hate April 12th.  It's a day I dread all year long.  I know that, for the most part, starting on April 11th, I'll be a basketcase.  And this year was no exception.

Knowing how much pain my family has endured causes me to be in pain for them.  My Mother was driving the car and SAW her son pass.  Her 13 year old son.  Her brilliant son.  Her son that was going to be a world famous scientist.  Her son, my brother, the one that always WANTED to babysit his 6 year old younger sister.

The pain that she must feel ... I can't imagine it.  And for the last two days, I've been crying not so much because he is gone (although that of course makes me cry), but mainly because I can't imagine the pain she as gone through.

I've only been a mother for 10 1/2 months.  And if anything would happen to my daughter?  I think I would die inside.  I really do.  I would never be the same person again.  A smile would be forced.  I would never genuienly laugh again.

And while I see EVERY SINGLE day that my Mom lives with this pain, she somehow has endured.  She is such a strong woman.  Sometimes, she's too strong.  Sometimes I wish she would feel more comfortable to break out and cry with us.  But I know she's trying to be strong for all of us...because she's our Mamma bear. 

I often wonder what he would be like.  I wonder what our holidays would be like.  I wonder how he would have reacted to his nieces.  I wonder if HE would have had kids himself!

I've cried this year more than normal.  I had a severe headache last night from all the tears.  And fortunately my husband just holds me and lets me cry. 

Today though, I went to work and tried to be distracted as much as I could.  It wasn't the best day of work.  I had a kid threaten me and to the best of my knowledge, he was arrested afterwards.  Of all days for me to feel vulnerable...

When I got home though, Evan and I watched "Tangled" to help keep my mind off things.  It was cute.  Did the trick ... even though a few tears still came through.  Then we had some sweet friends come over for dinner since they knew today was a tough day.  We made a delicious spaghetti dinner and shared some laughs.

On a day like today, I feel like it's important to admit why I've been so adamant and so upset at myself for not fulfilling on my promise to "live for today."  Because the fact of the matter is that on any day, your world can fall apart.

And 19 years ago, today, it did.


  1. I'm so sorry. My brother's "angel day" always makes me cry and the days leading up to it are just as difficult. This year was particularlly hard as it was the first year after I became a mother. Praying for some peace for you.

  2. I'm so very sorry. I have a difficult time with my dad's angel day and the preceding days as well.

    And your mama was strong because she still had to be a mama to you....


  3. Your daughter is your most precious gift and your brother is her guardian angel. Even though we can see them their presence is always felt. Having your own child gives you a deeper understanding without saying anything of what your mom is enduring and how she had to adjust to life after her son died. Without knowing it, you have probably given off a greater compassion to her and she knows it and is thankful for you in her life. Hug your husband and hug your daughter when you feel the tears, their warmth will give you strength

  4. So sorry you have to deal with this pain over and over again. I lost a good man/love 11 years ago (will be 12 in June) and each year I grieve as if it was the first day he was gone.

    Many hugs and prayers being sent your way today!

  5. I'm so sorry Cristina.

  6. i missed this.

    my brother died eight years ago on march twelfth. his birthday is october twelfth. and both of those days are abyssmal for me.

    i'm starting to forget him. he and i were not that close, you see. i'd spent the first ten years of my life not knowing him, the next ten having placed him on this huge pedestal. in the next ten, he was next to nothing to me.

    we'd just started getting along, three months before his death. we'd finally become friends, not just siblings.

    every time i'm holding my niece or nephew and the wind blows, i tell them that's their uncle saying hello. they're two. they can't comprehend it yet.

    there are days i see similarities in others. there are days i watch films (like when i saw love happens) that i break.

    this is not an easy thing with which to cope, and i'm so sorry to hear that you deal with it, too, and have for much longer.

    i guess the point of this hella long comment is that i have an inkling of what you're feeling.

    and i'm glad to know you have friends who can be so supportive.