Sleep (Happy Birthday)

“I’ve lost a lot of sleep to dreams, I do not miss them yet, I wouldn’t wish them on the worst of enemies, Let them burn, go from me. Like when autumn leaves. To catch a thief, who stole the soul I prayed to keep. Insomniac, bad dreams got me losing sleep. I’m fighting the battle for the soul of the century.”

I dreamed that I was getting married and my brother was there— not in the flesh, his presence reflected in a life-size cardboard cutout superimposed with a tuxedo over his body—standing next to Alfred I saw his smile as I walked up the aisle. It seems that even my subconscious knows that he’s dead.

Funny, my reality hasn’t exactly caught up. His name is still programmed in my phone to a number long since disconnected. But I like the idea that if I wanted him, he’s only a phone call away, his voice floating around in a cyber-directory. I’d even join Facebook again just to have the comfort of his page.

Today is his birthday, he would be 33. And no matter the state of our relationship, we were guaranteed to talk today, or at least he would receive tokens of my love and adoration in the form of b-day cards that I carefully picked out to make him laugh.

For all the glum and ho-hum that if my life, my brother was a funny dude. HE did the best impersonations of . When I was preparing to leave for Africa, he would do Jaime’s standup skit in full and I would laugh and laugh. He was so funny! “Afffrrriiiccaaaaaa”

He would encourage me, voice awestruck and concerned; that precious balance of care and courage that only siblings acting as parents can have. I miss that. I miss knowing that he’s just a call away. I miss how loving and family oriented he was. And though he kept to himself, centered in the new family he created, we were always his first unit of love.

I find myself repeatedly bartering with God. Calling him unfair, treating him like the amusement park that takes all of my money in exchange for moments of happiness. My haggling limp, I try to find something in my feeble human resistance tempting enough to bring him back; miracles that turn ashes back to body and body back to breathing. I want to scream and fall apart but in the infinite rush there never seems to be time.

I find myself hating strangers for living. I want to run up to them and say “HI! Do you know today is my brother’s birthday? Do you want to join me in wishing him well? Well you cant. I cant. Because he’s dead. In heart beats I’d trade your paltry existence for him.”

The problem with this homicidal train of thoughts is the rage they incite by their uselessness. Why should one alone feel such pain?

Selfish, I feel selfish. No “but I just miss him” excuses. Nothing to blankly explain why some must go and others stay behind. I should have done better, never letting distance or time separate familial ties.

The notion that when someone is gone, they are really gone, not just on vacation with plans to return but void. The truth of their existence is lost in the black hole of memories.

That’s how I hold on, my thoughts immobilizing his life in an immortal realm of memories removing man, leaving protective big brother. We forget in death any barrier building impurities which distanced us in life. To cope, memories become treasures, words lyrical, faults forgiven, failures excused, love overarching.

I wish today I wasn’t so alone, that I had a comforting shoulder on which to rest a crying head. More time to love on him like I should have when I had him.

My dearest brother, I love you beyond compare and hope nothing but the best for you in all eternity. Until I feel the comfort of your embrace and warm smile again, Happy Birthday.

All my love,

J.L.

Advertisements

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. De
    Feb 15, 2012 @ 09:54:51

    From the sounds of things, he is someone else who (like you) will pull a laugh, or at least a smile (which is laughter for me), out of me. Not easily done. Happy Birthday. ❤ ❤

    Reply

  2. D
    Feb 15, 2012 @ 10:18:22

    That was beautiful and im sure he is looking in on you and appreciates the love.

    Reply

  3. Shibby23
    Feb 15, 2012 @ 11:43:23

    He is truly missed. I too wish I could pick up the phone and call him. I just want to hear his voice one more time.
    I want you to know that you are not alone. In my best Michael Jackson voice. (smile)
    I wish I could be there for you to lay your head on my shoulder and ease the pain that you are feeling today. Rest assure although we are not physically with you are spirits are with you holding you steady. Love you pooh!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: