Me and David at Fort Pickens, FL in 1994 (one of many RV trips we took with Nana and Paw) |
It’s been three years (January 28, 2013) since my younger
brother died. It doesn’t get any easier, and I don’t know that it should. I’ve
been thinking about him a lot lately. I recently lost my job and the stability
that came with it, so I’ve had a lot more time on my hands to let my mind
wander. He’s never far from my mind, but not having deadline after deadline to
keep me distracted, my thoughts turn toward him often.
David was, like too many who are stolen away by accidents,
drugs, alcohol, cancer, or any other terrible part of life, taken too young. He
was a kind, gentle, unbelievably smart, argumentative, stubborn, and loving
man. But, addiction took over, and ultimately beat him. I can’t explain what
it’s like having a brother addicted to drugs and alcohol, and I don’t know how
to put into words the utter and complete loss you feel when those bastards take
the one life he had. It’s like a piece of you is gone. And you know it will
never heal, never scab over, never fully close. Yeah, it becomes white noise
sometimes, and most days, I’m okay. But, a sound, a smell, a picture, a meal —
anything can cause him to jump right back to the front of my mind. And it’s
important that that happens.
The pig-head brooch I made for David |
At the end of my hallway, I have a shelf on a bookcase (a
coffin-shaped bookcase, incidentally) where I keep mementos from my brother and
grandfather’s life. Not reminders of the sadness, but objects that remind me of
the good. That help me remember the good. A favorite item I have of my brother's
is a pig-head brooch I made him many years ago. He wasn’t a jewelry fan per se,
but he loved me and what I was doing. He always told me how good I was and how
proud of me he was. I made him this brooch out of a plastic pig and fine- and
sterling silver. I think he wore it on one of his hats for a while, and he was
distraught when he thought he lost it. After he died and my mom and Mark
cleaned out his apartment, they found this brooch. In perfect condition, on a
bookshelf. His whole life had been chaos for so many years, yet this brooch,
this pig-head I had made for him, was taken care of. I’m not up to wearing it
(for fear of losing it), but I now keep it (along with a hawk that I see as David keeping an eye on me) in perfect condition. On my bookshelf.
The pig-head brooch and David-hawk, standing guard on top of my bookcase |
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