Ten Days

How do I begin to describe the thoughts going around in my head? Where do I begin? How do you describe something that feels like a mixture of fear and awe?

My brother passed away exactly 10 days after he turned 31. Ten days. For me, that's this upcoming monday, April 18th. How in name of all I hold dear could I ever fathom my life being over now? I was 23 when he was gone, an age that is easily taken for granted. Now, being here, I can fully appreciate all of the potential of which he was robbed.

Kids, happiness, growing old, these things he will never know. And to be approaching that is to get a better understanding of the loss. I don't consider myself old by any means. I'm not ancient or past any sort of prime. I have a lot ahead of me, and to think of it ending in less then a couple of days is so unreal. And for him, that's the reality.

I've carried him with me through all of this. Sometimes it's like he's right here, like I'll feel someone in the room with me and can't stop myself from saying his name as though asking him if he's there. I want him to be there.

A single point of data does not a line make. I know that. I *know* I'm not going to die on Monday. It's just... knowing he did. Being able to fully comprehend that. Being able to see how much was cut short, and to contemplate it.

I've always feared this day. The memories it dregs up, the ones already bubbling to the surface. It takes me down paths I usually avoid. What would happen if I did? Would people carry on as we do about Chris? Would there be blog posts seven years later about what it all means?

Life can be funny and cruel and all kinds of bizarre. I can only hope I get to experience more of it.