Christmas Eve Eve, and what the new year might look like

 I noticed the last post was four days before my brother passed. *breathes* Twenty-four days ago that seems like both yesterday and years ago. This grief thing really sucks. 

But I digress from my original thought...

Today is Christmas Eve Eve, and I just finished a shower before I try to turn off my mind from my grief and my 49ers losing to a team they should've beat. Hey, I'll take anything to distract myself - even anger against my most favorite team. Anything. Anyway, I sit on my bed looking at the few gifts I wrapped, and my almost packed bag for the next two days. It seems like Christmas is the same this year but really, it is not. It's all for show, the packages, packed bags, and errand bag I made so I dont' forget to take care of a few errands before I head out of town and to my family. It's all fake. All of it. Christmas Eve Eve was always an exciting day for me, one of my favorites of the year. This year? It's the day that became "the one to prepare myself for a sad holiday." (yes, a Friends reference). There is nothing familiar about it. It's new and different.

Will it be this way forever?

Friends and family that have been through this tell me it gets better but it won't ever be the same. I never posed the question to anyone, but this is what I hear first. If I think about it, their answer doesn't answer my question. Will it be this way forever? So I'm going to answer it myself: both yes and no.

Yes, because life has changed because there is one person now missing and not coming back.

No, because life is life and things like this happen to people.

It just hadn't happened to me. Until now. *breathes*

I left work yesterday telling my boss Cari that I have realized - and it wasn't the first time - that my life has been fairly good. I haven't had a lot of hardship or heartache. I haven't had a lot of spectacular either. My life is pretty even keel - though I will say that I do have my personal inner issues steming from childhood, young adulthood and adulthood. But in a pretty real sense, my life has been pretty tame.

This though. This changes things. There is a hole inside me. I've never felt it before, not ever. I've had depression, suicidal thoughts, extreme sadness and anger - but never this. I thought those things were awful and bad and hard to live through. They are nothing compared to grief. I am different. I feel different. My inner peace has been attacked. An entire person I love dearly has been ripped from me in such an evil way. A part of me is gone. A part of my DNA is gone.

*breathes*

Will I be this way forever?

My answer to this one is I don't know, but I don't like it. Not one bit. I've always had something in myself that I could tap in to when I needed to pull myself up. Right now, I don't have that. Not in me. Not yet.

What I do have - and am supremely thankful for - are friends and family that remind me of who I am and of Whom I am. I am a daughter of the King, and for some reason I am still here on earth. I still have something to do here. I still have a life here, but I have no idea why. My brother has a family, a wife, a new job that he loved and deserved tenfold. He worked so hard his whole life to get his dream. He had it for about 2 1/2 years. Me? I can't tell you I have even one thing that he had. Not one. So why? Why him? Why not me?

I'm told that it's survivors guilt - someone called it sibling's guilt. I don't think it's really guilt anymore - it was before, but not now. I just don't understand or see any reason. It makes more sense, logically, to be me and not him. So why? So why not me? What is my life going to be like? Why is my life still my life?

God, what do you want me to do now? Are there changes I need to make? Is there someone that you haven't brought into my life yet that I'm supposed to plant a seed, or touch in a certain way? Are my goals still supposed to be my goals - business owner, writer, leader? Or are you going to reveal something to me through this? And there are so many more questions that I have but the only answer I hear from Him, and from others is this:

"None of that matters right now. Crying, being angry, giving yourself time, resting, feeling all the feelings is all okay. Grieving is okay right now, and you don't need to do anything else."

But I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to be sad anymore. Not for this; not for my brother passing to be with Jesus. I want it to be all a bad dream that I can wake up from but it's hard for me to.

But it's not a dream; it's real. *breathes* And tomorrow and the day after are the first Christmas Eve and Christmas Day celebrating the birth of Jesus, our Lord and Savior, but is also the first one grieving a very close loved one. The dichotomy of that is hard to bear but I wouldn't have my faith if I didn't bear it.

If there is anything I do know about myself is that my Faith is the center of my being. I did my searching earlier in life. I KNOW God exists, and I feel His Holy Spirit in me and all around me. But this is hard though, and He knows I am struggling. He knows that this is the first time I really DON'T understand His plan. He also knows that I still love Him, and He knows just how much I love and miss my brother and always will. He knows my heart is broken, and His breaks for me, too. And then He reminds me a second later that my brother is with Him, fully whole and experiencing a life so much better than this one, that He really has my brother in His hands. 

That's how I'm able to sleep at night. That's why I can put one foot in front of the other every day. That's why I know I will move forward through this one day. That's why I will have moments of strength amidst my sister-in-law, niece, nephews, dad, grandma, other family members over the next two days, and it's also why I'll have moments of crying, sadness, hurt. It's also why that in all those moments, and other types I'm not thinking of right now, that my heart will mend a little - it may be only one stitch at a time, but a stitch is a stitch.

So now my thoughts and feelings are down on paper, so to speak. And this is one of the ways God has given me as a release. Writing is truly a release for me. Whether it's creating a story, a character, or finding the right word for a frustrating sentence, and regardless of if I ever get any of it published, my writing things down helps me process, release, and essentially and eventually move forward.

This is me adding one tiny little stitch to my broken little heart. *breathes*