My brother passed away four years ago to date. This day is unbearable. This week actually. Because I retrace every day of that week in 2007 and try to remember how I felt, what I saw, and the things I encountered. But some days are blurry; I can't remember what I wore, or how long it took to fly to Florida. I can't really remember too much of the actual sermon of his funeral, except for the fact that it was gloomy that day, and my other older brothers and I laughed at the irony of his funeral being on 420.
I think the more years that go by, this day becomes harder to think of. Shouldn't it be the opposite? Shouldn't the pain decrease a little bit as my mind ages? Or is it simply because the older I get, the more I realize on how much of an influence he was to my life? How fucking COOL he was and always told me to live life to its complete and utter boundaries. Or that he was never able to see me graduate, or any of my shows, not be in a tuxedo for my wedding, or see my kids grow up and be their badass uncle?
This are the things that still bother me. And won't stop until my own timeline is up and I find my way back to him again. This is something I hardly ever talk about to anyone, but I figured writing might make me feel a little better. And it did. I am thankful for the short amount of time I was able to spend with him, I only wish I had more.
Love and miss you William. Keep an eye out for me.