Last Words...

I've been truckin' along, feeling quite proud of myself for 'handling' my brother's suicide so well. I've been soothing myself by telling myself that this is what he obviously wanted, he's at peace now and hanging out in Heaven with my Mom and Grandparents etc.

I should have known better really.

This week it seemed to hit me all over again, harder and with more force this time. The numbness and shock, I gather, has worn off and I'm not "truckin' along" quite as well as I thought I was. It's words of all things that are hitting my soul reminding me of Lars. I'm finding myself heartbroken all over again, feeling like I am taking one step forward and two steps back in this whole bereavement process (which is admittedly rather irritating to me, because I just like to get on with things and I know that I can't with this, I just have to let it happen the way it is meant to...).

Everyday words that I would normally just look right past and not blink an eye at now hold so much significance to me and I'm finding it hard to get past them.

Police. Every time I see the word on the side or back of a police car I am instantly transported back to that night when the police officer was banging on my door at 12 am to tell me my brother had died. I see them every day when I am out driving around and I don't know how to get past it, or get to the point where I can see a police car and not think about my brother and that night.

Legos. Dear God, someone help me because Matty is now hardcore into Legos and Star Wars, two things my brother was obsessed with when he was a child and I keep catching myself wanting to phone or text my brother and share this commonality that Matty has with him, share with him how cute Matty is playing with his Legos and how much he reminds me of him, but I can't.

Empty. There is a part of me that is so blessed and so full of life because I have an amazing family and I'm surrounded by equally amazing friends, but there is a large part of me right now that feels so agonizingly empty without my brother.

I think of my last words with Lars...

A text message letting him know how much Noah and the kids loved the gifts he brought the day before and I invited him over for supper again the next weekend. We had just moved back to Calgary and were finally living in the same city again and I was looking forward to seeing him more often. He texted me back that the following Saturday would be great for supper, that he loved me and would chat with me later. About 5 minutes after that he took his own life. I desperately cling to those last words of his in his text message.

The night before he died he was over for supper and was (seemingly) fine, his normal happy go lucky self. We had a truly wonderful visit and if that is the last memory I have of him, I am glad it is that one. I try and replay that night in my head over and over and over trying to make sure I don't forget a single sentence , a single syllable and at the same time I am terrified because I know as time goes on, I will inevitably forget bits and pieces here and there.

Then I am brought back full circle again, faced with that icky side of life that no one wants to talk about, let alone think about in regards to themselves or anyone close to them.

Death.

There I said it. 

No matter what you do, there is no getting away from it. But in my opinion, death is a form of rebirth, don't you think? I'm reminded of this wonderful story that in all this grief, in all this darkness, brings me light and gives me hope. It's 'The Dragonfly Story', also known by it's proper title 'Waterbugs and Dragonflies: Explaining Death to Young Children' by Doris Stickney.

So, without further adieu... :o)

The Dragonfly Story

Down below the surface of a quiet pond lived a little colony of water bugs. They were a happy colony, living far away from the sun. For many months they were very busy, scurrying over the soft mud on the bottom of the pond. They did notice that every once in awhile one of their colony seemed to lose interest in going about. Clinging to the stem of a pond lily it gradually moved out of sight and was seen no more.

"Look!" said one of the water bugs to another, "one of our colony is climbing up the lily stalk. Where do you think she is going?" Up, up, up it slowly went....Even as they watched, the water bug disappeared from sight. Its friends waited and waited but it didn't return.

"That's funny!" said one water bug to another. "Wasn't she happy here?" asked a second... "Where do you suppose she went?" wondered a third.

No one had an answer. They were greatly puzzled. Finally one of the water bugs, a leader in the colony, gathered its friends together, "I have an idea." "The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk must promise to come back and tell us where he or she went and why."

"We promise", they said solemnly.

One spring day, not long after, the very water bug who had suggested the plan found himself climbing up the lily stalk. Up, up, up, he went. Before he knew what was happening, he had broke through the surface of the water and fallen onto the broad, green lily pad above.

When he awoke, he looked about with surprise. He couldn't believe what he saw. A startling change had come to his old body. His movement revealed four silver wings and a long tail.

Even as he struggled, he felt an impulse to move his wings...The warmth of the sun soon dried the moisture from the new body. He moved his wings again and suddenly found himself up above the water.

He had become a dragonfly!!

Swooping and dipping in great curves, he flew through the air. He felt exhilarated in the new atmosphere. By and by the new dragonfly lighted happily on a lily pad to rest. Then it was that he chanced to look below to the bottom of the pond. Why, he was right above his old friends, the water bugs! There they were scurrying around, just as he had been doing some time before.

The dragonfly remembered the promise: "The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk will come back and tell where he or she went and why."

Without thinking, the dragonfly darted down. Suddenly he hit the surface of the water and bounced away. Now that he was a dragonfly, he could no longer go into the water...

"I can't return!" he said in dismay. "At least, I tried. But I can't keep my promise. Even if I could go back, not one of the water bugs would know me in my new body. I guess I'll just have to wait until they become dragonflies too. Then they'll understand what has happened to me, and where I went."

And the dragonfly winged off happily into its wonderful new world of sun and air.......

I love that story. Through my tears it makes me smile and somehow renews my spirit to keep "truckin' on" as I so eloquently like to put it. ;o)

Thank you for listening and letting me share this with you. I hope my words and The Dragonfly Story can help someone out there as well who is going though the grieving process. (((hugs)))



With love and light ♥,