Yes, I know that it's the day before Halloween, & it's not Friday the 13th. But October 30th will always be the scariest day of the year for me.
It scared me first 3 years ago.
I had just come home from a full day @ work, & my parents & I were gathered around the table, eating a quick bite of supper & discussing our plans for that evening & the following day.
5pm rolls around, & Mom got a phone call from my brother's friend/roommate. She said, "I was just on the phone with your son, & it sounded like he was in a real bad car accident. Call around to the hospitals & police stations to figure out where he is."
That's exactly what my parents did. They called long distance to try to find out where my brother was, but no one knew or could disclose that information to someone over the phone.
My mom ended up calling her sister, who lived close to my brother, & asked her to run around to the hospitals & police stations to find him in person. If nothing else, by being his aunt, she would be able to be told any news concerning my brother & relay that to us.
After bouncing from place to place, my aunt had her phone set to speakerphone when she encountered the local police officers. They confirmed her relationship to my brother, & informed her that he was deceased.
Over the sound of the officer explaining the who, what, when, where, why & how, my mom screamed @ the top of her lungs, "No, dear God, no! Not my son, not my baby boy! Not my first born, please God!"
We later learned the full details of the situation, which were NOT pleasant to say the least (not the police's fault, mind you, but the driver of the car my brother was a passenger in).
3 years ago, my brother died.
He looked just like me, only shorter.
He loved letting us put stickers on the underside of the top bunk of his bunkbed.
He loved skateboarding, even rigging one that was easier for us to ride.
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He loved Herdez Green Salsa.
He loved motorcycles & fast cars.
He loved his kids with all of his heart.
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He tried to get sober & clean to spend more time with them, but that was stolen away from him.
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So, hug your family close tonight. Don't give up just because they squirm or get uncomfortable. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to hug them again....
All too often, it's easy to focus on the grief; that my Bubba is gone, he'll never interrogate my first boyfriend, he won't see me get married, or bounce my kids on his knee. There are so many moments where the sorrow slams into me like a riptide: unexpected, strong, and forceful enough to sweep my feet out from under me. I feel like I've lived out Plumb's song Need You Now
