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Tuesday, February 3, 2015



The days go by and I find myself traveling down memory lane. Why did we argue? What was so important to get so mad and either yell or not talk to my brother on this or that day. I was missing him so much. I am missing my my first playmate, my partner in crime of days past, my brother. I can't imagine not being able to call or text him. Texting was not his favorite, he said texting you loose the real connection. I sit and read and re-read a text where his response was "call me, can't text had my thumbs surgically removed." I read it and cracked up. These days, laughter is not a part of my persona so a smile says it all and I just stare at a last joke we shared. 
If I could just share my experience to my kids. How does one explain death to late twenty-something and thirty somethings? You think they would know and clearly understand what the finality of death is really like. But I really don't think anyone understands till they have lost someone very close to them. Before loosing my mom, I would be sad and thought I was being empathetic or sympathetic to friends that lost a parent. Then I thought I knew the pain when I lost my mother in law because I loved her dearly. Then I lost my mom, and I cannot explain to my kids what it feels like. You can never say what you wanted to say, you cannot take back what you might have said in haste. You suddenly try to remember the advise mom had given to  you but you just acknowledged and kept on going because "mom was always here."
That pain, that loneliness seems to always be tugging at your heart and is ever-present in the pit of your stomach. I don't think it will ever go away for good, after all she was there from the beginning of my existence. 
My brother, well the same goes for him. My brother was the first playmate, my first friend, my first foe, my first team mate. Vincente was only 3 years older than I so he was the spear head, I just followed along. Oh what fun, laughter and mischief we shared. Now it will only exist in my head as I do not have someone to share it with. Maybe I will share it with my Lady Sofia. Maybe that is what grand children are for; they are given to us to share our stories with because our children, their parents are busy with life. Now I have the time to see the world through her eyes and she will have the time to listen to my family stories. I get God, this is why you have blessed me with grands. 

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