I have been wanting to write all week, but I just couldn't for some reason. These past two weeks have been so unbelievably hard. Watching my brother go through this traumatic horrific thing and experience gut wrenching pain and despair is killing me. After losing Michael, I was always so afraid that it would happen again, that I would lose someone I love, again. I was always waiting for another phone call to tell me that someone else is dead. When I did receive that phone call, I was in a panic/fight or flight mode that it didn't occur to me until a few days later that one of my fears actually did come into fruition.
My heart is absolutely broken that there is another widow(er) in my family. My heart would always break when I would learn about another widow, knowing that we share a commonality that most others wouldn't. But this is too much. This is my brother. My best friend. I want so desperately to take his pain away. But there is nothing that any of us can do, but to go through it with him.
I constantly found myself comparing how I was to how Drew is. But I am constantly frustrated because I can't remember how I was. Those memories weren't encoded, and I am hoping for the same for my brother. I hope he doesn't remember this part.
Before this all happened, I felt like I was possibly coming to a good point. The peaks and valleys of my grief were starting to level out. I was having more good days than bad. And this happens and I am thrown right back into it. I almost wanted to quit school again and give it another go next semester. I had an insanely hard time leaving my brother to go back home.
I just wish this was all different. It still doesn't seem real.