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A Simple Anniversary


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I just passed the 2nd Anniversary of my brother's death, and it was strange, to say the least. In fact, on the day of, I actually forgot what day it was, as I was so involved with the upset of our furbaby's dwindling health, and some other matters. When I finally remembered, the next evening, I grabbed the expensive bottle of Scotch that my husband had just bought. You see, my brother had always loved good Scotch and ever since we found this particular brand, I think of how I would have told him all about it and how we would have enjoyed a rousing conversation about it. So I grabbed our bottle, and quite simply made a toast to him....which my husband ruined, by continuing to blather on about something else, interrupting my toast. To rectify this, I poured him a glass, too, and told him we were now going to toast him together, since he'd ruined the first one!

It was a simple gesture in remembrance of my brother, but a meaningful one for me, and somehow, it was good enough. While something more would have been nice, I immediately forgave myself for being simply human and having other, more pressing things, to worry about both the day before ( when I forgot ) and still the next day, when I had no time for anything more than this simple toast. It may have been quick, but it was heartfelt all the same, and I also knew that I was probably the only one in our family, or among our numerous relatives, who did anything at all in his honour. And at least, for once, this brought up a GOOD, warm memory from our lives together. It was enough. B)

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Guest juliette

maylisa,

good job with the scotch! i always enjoyed a good scotch with my brother (despite whether i actually enjoyed the drink - it is the act of having it that meant so much). i toasted my brother with a fine drop last week on his birthday (it has now been 3 & 1/2 months since his death) and felt the act of drinking it with a few freinds made me feel like i was wishing him happy birthday more than the private ceremony i held for myself earlier that day (which was possibly the loneliest experience of my life). i have not been here since a few weeks after his death, mainly because i have moved across the county from my family and freinds since then and until now internet has been scarce. i do appreciate your response to my post at that time. i did feel that it was all a bit too hard to come back here and begin to talk (nothing to do with you or any thoughts on this forum - just all too hard generally). i am still unsure if i will participate now - sure you will understand.

on my brother's birthday it was a wierd thing to explain to a few new found work collegues that i needed to go to a pub and drink a good scotch to celebrate. having worked myself into a frenzy for the week prior about how i was going to deal with the day, it was better than i expected (the days prior i was a mess). by the time i got to mid afternoon i was functioning and actually enjoyed having a drink to him after work.

so, in memory to the anniversary of your loss and my brother's birthday, here's to the cermeonial good scotch!

take care.

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  • 2 weeks later...

This Sunday will mark the 18th anniversary of my sister's death.

She had fought breast cancer for 4 years before succumbing. Left behind 2 sons, 9 and 6 1/2 years old at the time.

The calling hours and funeral was wonderful, so to speak. She was a revered teacher, and hundreds of current and former students showed up. Myself and other family members were approached numerous times by people expressing their appreciation for her, what a wondeful teacher she was.

The school district even cancelled classes the day of the funeral so teachers and students could attend.

The burial was sad. (There was even a TV crew there filming, due to the cancelled classes.) What was sad about the cemetary scene was that despite all the family, I was alone. All the family members were grouped around each other in twos and threes, hugging. I had hovered about, hoping to be brought into an embrace. To no avail.

I returned to the city where I lived at the time. I became an emotional zombie for about 2 weeks, so much so that my boss threatened to fire me if I didn't snap out of it. I "grief healed" with that.

That was my first experience with major death. She and I weren't too close, as there was an age difference (16 years), but she was always very nice to me. Asked me to be the godfather of her firstborn son, and always called me on my birthday.

Gave me books to read when I was a kidlet, which instilled a love of reading. Later on I discovered that people can get paid to write these books, which led me on a dream to be a writer. (Still unrealized as yet. I think God has been waiting for me to go through certain things before becoming the writer He wills me to be. Alcohol recovery, rediscovering Catholicism, griefwork).

I owe that sister a lot, and that is something I've rarely thought of.

I can't grab a bottle of Scotch, or anything else 'fun', but I'll think of something appropriate to do.

TO OUR DECEASED SISTERS AND BROTHERS!!!! OOOGIE, OOOGIE, OOOGIE!!! OY, OY, OY!!!

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  • 1 month later...

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