Forty

It's a milestone he didn't reach, among others.

This year it seems to be hitting me harder that my brother is no longer with us.

His 40th birthday would have been this past Sunday, the 12th. I would have posted then but I was busy trying to get myself to NYC from Oakland in one piece and the weather was not cooperating.

I'm home now and I've been thinking about him a lot this week.

40 is a year to celebrate and he should have been here for it.

While he may have done some stupid things in his short life, Robbie wasn't a stupid person. Which makes his final action even more unfathomable to this day.

I've been to the dark place that he didn't return from. I know that life can throw stuff at us that makes us think that escaping life is easier than staying. I've managed to pull myself back and I won't let myself go there again. It's a daily struggle (that's the way depression works, you know?) but I know how strong I am.

I wish Robbie had been strong enough to say "Enough!" to whatever was making him feel the way he was and I wish he'd known he could have asked me for help and that I'd have done everything possible to keep him here.

Happy 40th Birthday Robbie. My wish for you is that you were still here, but since I can't have that I hope you are finally at peace. It's something we all deserve, but don't always manage.

It Still Seems So Wrong

22 years ago today my brother decided that death was easier than life.

That sounds harsh, but it is not really something you can sugar coat.

I know he's never coming back.

I know we will never know why he did it.

I still cry when I think about what a waste it was.

It will never hurt any less. You just learn to handle the pain.

He hated school, but wasn't stupid.

He loved cars, but never got his driver's license.

He adored our nephew, but chose not to see how his life would play out.

He loved our sister, but chose to not stick around to see her married and happy.

He was loved, but never understood how much.

Wherever you are Robbie, I hope it is everything that we couldn't give you here.

Five years longer than you were with us

Today is the anniversary of my brother's passing.

It has been 21 years and that is so hard to believe.

It seems just like yesterday.

I wish you were still here Robbie. I'd love to see the man you should have grown up to be.

For anyone reading, I'll be listening to Kenny Chesney's 'Who You'd Be Today'. Listen along if you have it.

Forever 16 (PIF)

and today he would have been 37.

This is my brother, Robbie. It is the only picture I have of him, and I swiped it out of my senior high school year book this morning.

What can I tell you?

• He and I were 3 months apart in age
• He became a member of our family when he was 2.
  
• He was 6'4" and still doing his beanstalk impersonation
• He had blond hair and green eyes
  
• He hated PE, actually I think school in general, but he was really smart.
• When he played baseball, it seems like he could get from first to second base in three strides.
  
• He adored our nephew Michael and his mother, our sister, Christine.
  
• He was more troubled than any of us ever saw
• He chose to end his life 20+ years ago and I still don't know why he did it, and it's a question that can never be answered.

And yet, to this day I wonder why, what would have become of him if he hadn't made that choice, what our family dynamics would be if he were still here.

We fought like cats and dogs - we were teenagers after all - but I miss him.

He left a lot of pain behind when it happened:

He left his pain here
But he left the rest of us hurting because we couldn't see what was so wrong that death was a better choice than life.

He also left two songs to remember him by - Bon Jovi's Never Say Goodbye and Pat Benatar's Love is a Battlefield.

I'll be playing those today, it seems appropriate, don't you think?

This also seems like an appropriate time to have signed up for the PIF that's been running through blog land.

So in his name:

I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days. That is my promise. The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.

Also note that it doesn't have to be a knit item. It can be crochet, quilting, cross stitch, woodworking, whatever you choose as your craft of choice.

Help me Pay it Forward and we'll see how I did same time, same place, next year.

I leave you with my senior yearbook dedication:

There is no greater sorrow than to recall in misery, the times when we were happy. Robert you'll never be forgotten.

Love your sister,
Jenni