His name was Albert

If you would have known him you would understand why he was and still is such a grand inspiration. We could literally read each other minds. Words had not been spoken yet they had been thought of and acknowledged. It was difficult to separate where he ended and I began, that's how close we were. To understand that relationship is to visit the past. As a child, he was one of the first people I recall ever seeing. Everything he did intrigued me. Everything from his mannerisms, his smile, his many talents, his drive, love and his compassion. 

It was futile to try to grasp what his goals and dreams were and I wondered why? I eventually figured out that he hadn't limited himself to one or two or even three things for his life. His eyes sought further than most of us could even glance. He had the ability to effortlessly shower people with concern and care without losing himself in the process. His presence of mind was spread to so many areas that he reached so many people in his short time on this earth. He was loved by all from the moment he was born. Everywhere he went he was well received with the exception of one place and that didn't stop him from being himself. He rescued lost dogs, helped all kind of animals in need. He'd take stuff apart just to see how they worked and put it back and they he would add things to it to make then work even better. He could sell anything to anyone yet the irony is that for the most part people came to him, not the other way around. He was that approachable. To be in his presence felt normal versus not being in it felt awkward for me.

The person that I writing about today and whom I have missed for so long is Albert, my deceased brother. To state that the day he passed away a piece of me died with him is a gross understatement. He is at the center of some of my articles including the Dealing with Loss article. Time has quickly passed as it has been close to 24yrs since his death. There are some things in life you never really chose to get over. I begrudgingly accepted that his heart no longer beats. 

He was buried at the sound of Military Taps being played in the background, the flag draped over his coffin given to his widow is a memory I relive each time I hear Taps. Despite such touching farewell he is still here because his memory lives on. He passed away one month before his only son was born so now he lives on through his son and his grandson. 

March was the month he was born in and every year at this time I feel him closer than ever. The fond memories of him gets me through some of the rough days and I am better for it. For if he had one day where he was down, I never saw it because he never let me see it. For if he saw me down he would make sure he made me laugh so I could see nothing other than happier days ahead. I wish you could have met him and that way you would know first hand that I am not even close to exaggerating about him. On the contrary, I left so much out.

I doubt he would be happy that I am missing him the way that I do, he would rather I smile, laugh, dance, live not mourn what will never be again. I am reminded that my high school's graduation party was the last event we shared together. I wouldn't consider going with anyone else. He always knew the latest dance steps, we danced he also danced with some of my friends. It was a wonderful evening, him so tall dashing full of life, everyone had a great time. He kept me to my strict curfew even though I wanted to stay with my friends. He had to work the next day so we left. One day later he tragically died.

Right about know is where he would say get up walk away from this, go enjoy your day therefore that is what I intend to do. At some point I'll watch a funny movie and laugh until I cry bitter sweet tears, eternally happy to have known him while at the same time sad to have lost him. Never-the-less I'll have his memories to lovingly and gratefully hold on to forever.

Dealing with Loss

How do you cope with the loss of a loved one? Everyone deals with it differently that is a given. Is there a right or wrong way to grieve? I am not able to answer that either, as one thing might be right for one person but totally wrong for another. I've dealt with such losses at an early age. At one point I felt as if every weekend was spent in a funeral parlor watching my parents say goodbye to a friend or a family member. It left an impression on me because no one could explain to me the look on everyone's face. It was as if I was looking into their grief yet not fully comprehending the depth of such pain. Many years later I learned what that look meant when one of my brothers passed away.

The word pain is not nearly enough to fully describe what I was feeling. I know a part of me died when he died. I know I miss him terribly. I miss being naïve about mortality...did I need to learn this lesson? If I say I did, then why did my brother's loss have to be to the one to teach me? Honestly, I would have not preferred to have learned it at all. Since then I have lost two childhood friends and my oldest stepson. Each time the pain compounds almost to the point of not being able to breathe. So how do I cope with so much loss? I don't pressure myself in to rationalizing it for the most part. I cry and cry and cry some more. Eventually, I make sense of it all. I'll make a conscious choice to honor them by honoring my memories of them, the jokes they played on people or on me, their spirits filled with eagerness to conquer all they could, watching them fall, dust themselves off and pick themselves back up again, their dreams played out in front of me, their ability to make things so much better than what they found them, the light in their eyes when speaking of their favorite things...yes, I carry these memories where ever I go. When I hear a song that reminds me of one of them, I smile and am thankful for having had the wonderful opportunity to have had their presence in my life. One thing remains constant, their zest for life is often what reminds me of how fortunate I am to still have the opportunity to live my life to the fullest, to stay true to oneself and above all never take anyone for granted although I must confess there are times that on some of these I may not always succeed.

One relative called me cold once because I did not show emotion when they expected me to.  What they did not know at that time was that it took all the energy I had to stay calm or else I would have lost my mind. That is how painful loss is to me. It's not lack of emotion or fear of showing emotion. It is an overwhelming sensation that stems from every fiber of your being and containing it is the only choice for me when others are grieving at the same time. That was the look on everyone's face all those years ago. That's what I have managed to understand yet I close my eyes and wish it all away if I had only one wish to bring back those who I have loved and lost. So the next time when sharing with family and friends I'll look into their eyes and I'll capture their essence as if for the last time. I'll give them all the time I may have to give and I'll sleep calmly knowing that each of them knows how much they are loved and appreciated just for being exactly who they are.

Norbela