I wrote a post about the one year anniversary of my brother’s death and birthday today, but I decided to delete it. Seems like that’s how it’s been going these days – second guessing everything. I’m too tired to write clearly, but maybe it was also too soon to write the post that I’ve been wanting to write.
Mostly what I’ve been thinking is, how can it be one year already? What’s in a year? Everything, nothing, all of it in between. It feels like a long time, but also like no time has passed. Angry, sad, and every contradiction in the book. It also reminds me of when I was little and how death seemed so enormous to me – not because I was necessarily scared of it, but because it sounded so final. Trying not to get overwhelmed by the finality of it all.