Saturday, February 28, 2009
Dixon Lake, Escondido in the '80's
Sunday, February 22, 2009
I can understand why people put their dead loved one's stuff away--it hurts to look into those eyes in photos. To think again on the missing that is filling up your aching heart. To remember that he isn't here anymore to make you laugh. It is painful, I concede that point. But I still like him surrounding me. I don't want to forget him. I don't want it to be weeks or months or years without thinking about him. Thinking about Bryan and remembering his life helps me want to be a better person--more like him in a hundred different ways. So even though the price is high--that emotional rawness and freshness that comes from choosing to think about him and not just putting it all away because it hurts--I am grateful for the sweetness that comes with thinking on the good stuff about my brother. Thanks for doing that with me each day.
My kids get it. Kate wept for missing Uncle B last night. I consoled her and hugged her and cried with her and prayed for her. If it wasn't all out there for her to remember and acknowledge, then we couldn't share the consolation. Peter still recognizes his uncle's happy face on the computer and runs to point him out. Someday they will have these stories, the ones I have remembered here on this blog, to keep their memory fresh. I don't want to forget.
I was looking through his old Sadie Hawkins pictures (hi Salina!) and his watch caught my attention. It was one of those SWATCH ones with a guard on the top of the face. Again, an '80's thing. I never owned one because I am not a spatial-temporal person so time is no big deal to me. Neither is fashion. Bryan was big on both. He liked having the "latest" things. My dad has his son's jewelery box, a handsome, manly one, on his bathroom counter. I looked through it the other day. There are four watches in there. Nice ones. And rings and a dozen necklaces and bracelets. My mom wears the BK charm, that Grandma Birthday used to wear as a ring, around her neck on a silver chain. My dad wears the ring that Bryan special ordered when he was with me at the mall one day. He liked fine things. He took care of them.
All of this is so surprising to me. But not entirely, I have always known we were so different. I don't even own a jewelry box and even if I did, it would be pointless--I only wear my wedding band. But I like touching the things he took pains to chose and care for and wear with pride. It makes me feel good to have them close. I hope that someday my sons will have wrists hunky enough to wear those nice watches. Until then, it makes me happy that they are near and not packed away or given away. I guess we all grieve in different ways?
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Remember this song? It makes me laugh every time I hear it! It was the summer of 1982 (or 3?) and Bryan was making weight for his Pop Warner Football team. He was ten or eleven but he was a BIG kid--my grandma called him HUSKY. If he played at his weight, he would be in a league with boys who were much older and much more experienced. My dad talked my brother into fasting, running, and sweating to lose the pounds needed to get into the age/experience level that Bryan truly was. This pic is of him in foil-like undergarments covered by sweats with a wrapper towel and ski hat for good measure. It all was a part of the strategy to accomplish his goal. I did mention that this was summer? It was hysterical. Who does this kind of thing? Bryan. I loved that weird guy. He made weight and played with boys his age. Hanging tough, staying hungry. This moment was the auspicious beginning to one of his favorite stunts--he "sweat" to make weight over and over and over again for the varsity wrestling team, in the future.
This is just as embarrassing to type as it is for you to read: I was a cheerleader at the same time. Really. This song, Eye of the Tiger, was THE song for the year. I listened to it over and over and over again as we practiced our routine for competition. The crazy things girls do in short skirts. Bryan was tackling little boys and I was shaking my booty to the Rocky soundtrack. What a happy childhood we had. I mean it. I am still laughing as I remember it all. If Bryan could see this photo, he'd enjoy a good belly laugh too.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
This is what I plan on sharing up there on the mountain, overlooking the lake, in some private spot as we cast his dust into the wind: