18 months later

I have not written on here in a while..
rather the words have been spinning in my mind.
Many believe that "we should move on, "
They don't understand the pain that comes with that.

Since my last post, we have had more ceremonies to honor you,
Have celebrated more birthdays and holidays,
We have cried and smiled,
But have come no where closer to the answers we continue to be in search of.

It's been our biggest challenge, the hardest fact to digest.
"We may never know;" words hard to hear.
Will it bring us closer, I don't know.
Will it bring further hurt, I am not sure.
Will it make sense, likely not...
but I still yearn to know what happened to you that night.

Thanksgiving eve, listing all that I am thankful for,
Yet, a part still thankless for this dark cloud in my life.
I am reminded by no other than Dr. Seuss...
to not "cry because it's over,.. but... smile because it happened.”
I focus on what we had, but can't let go of what would have been.

As time passes, wounds don't heal,
We just learn the "new normal" is with what we have to learn to deal.
Less tears for sure,
but with that comes a price...
I could tell you all of the lasts we shared.. but as time passes, they become a fog.
I recall your words, but not your voice.
I recall your look, but not your smell.
I remember our last phone conversation, but not every word.
Time takes parts away,
Time makes things harder, too.

I am thankful for the memories we shared,
the smiles, the tears, the  "real" that our life was.
I miss your silly looks, your stubborn personality,
your hugs, and your being.

I am thankful for the people you have placed in my life,
for the reminders you send to let me know that you are near,
and for the love of a little brother that you thought me about.

The holidays are so hard, no matter how much time has passed.
It's meant to be shared with family,
For us, the table is always missing one.

April 24th... A year later

I remember the day as if it was yesterday, but yet I feel like years have passed.
I had coached a lacrosse game and came home tired. I did not lay out clothes as I usually do. I did not pack a lunch, or  have a practice plan ready for the next day.
I remember being exhausted and lying in bed. As I fell asleep, my mind was filled with day to day thoughts. I had a list of things I had to do when morning came. (little did I know what the morning would hold).

It was a little after 1 am when my thoughts changed to fears, as I received a phone call, a phone call that still replays in my mind today.
I never hear my phone when I sleep, but that night I did.
I remember my questions as I tried to piece everything together. (are you sure you need me to come there? how silly a question that was).
The anger when I heard burn and Northwest (why not a burn center is all I could think).
The fear when I heard "cardiac arrest." (I knew what that meant)
The worry as I headed down the road to tell Mom. (What would I say? I did not know until I got there and still not sure how I kept a straight face as I told her that her baby was hurt)
I remember the faith I so wanted to have, that all would be okay.
The tears I soaked inside, as I stood strong for all those around me.
I recall the hours and days that passed.
Watching my brother fight... and trying to hold on to faith that we would be whole again.


365 days ago, we started on a journey. A journey that continues to be a struggle.
365 days ago, our hero Gene, made a choice to put someone else's life ahead of his own.
365 days since the fire that claimed his life.
It was the last time he was the Gene we all knew. The last time he don his cape and did what he loved.

I think about Gene everyday-
I miss him. I miss his smile, his squeezes, miss him wearing sunglasses indoors, the sibling fights that often ended in wrestling matches, and giving him a hard time like a big sister should.
I miss fighting over the last piece of cake at holidays or hearing him stump up the steps when he got mad at Mom.
I miss knowing he was there, a phone call away.
I think about Gene everyday-
Today, a year after this journey started, I hurt more, I fear more, and I am falling apart more than a year ago.

Count Down

Life is full of countdowns...
We count down each week to the weekend ahead, to paydays,
We count down to a new year, weddings, birthdays, and vacations.
We count down to retirement.
Usually, this time of year has me excited for the end of school year countdown.
Right now, the only countdown I can focus on, is the anniversary of the fire and of Gene's death.

11 days to the date of that fire... and 19 to the day that he died.
How quickly, yet slowly, a year has gone by.

Wishing there was a way to skip those day in the calendar,
to somehow make them disappear.

I don't know what those days will bring in terms of emotions,
but as they draw closer, I grow more anxious.

In between we count down to the release of the investigation report, the unveiling, the Shock Trauma Gala that will honor him, and Fallen Heroes Day...
As each of these events gets closer, my emotions change.
I am firing on all cylinders..
I am worried, but unsure of what.
I am angry, but unsure at whom.
I cry often, but unsure what brings it on.
I feel anxious, but unsure of why.
I am saddened, because in between all these dates are holidays, phone calls, hugs, texts, and visits that are missed.
I am part and not whole, because I have a Gene size hole in my heart, and it's growing larger as this countdown nears it's end.

It all comes back

I have been in the fire department for 17 years. Through that time, I have heard of many line of duty deaths. I attended funerals, sent condolences, and sympathized with departments, families, and other department personnel. It's different now. Now, when I hear about a line of duty death.... All of the raw  emotions come flooding back. An image immediately enters my mind and scenes start to flashback in my mind. I begin to think and replay that initial phone call, picture the ride to the hospital, get glimpses of the time spent at trauma, the funeral, the eulogy. Suddenly, I am reminded of every detail. Details I try so hard to block out. Somehow, I can't control it and for days following tragic news... Nothing can block them out.

I start to think about the family. I think about the support, and pray there is a lot. I start to think of what to say in a card. Should they know how hard the days ahead will be. Would it help prepare them? Before my own loss, I always said "time will heal and things will get better." I always wrote "I am sorry for your loss." Now, I avoid all of those words. I know they are not true, I know that "loss" is not the right word. I  am more careful at addressing the pain. Most times, I feel I am writing to myself. Over 50 firefighters and other public safety personnel have died since Gene. Over 50 have made the same ultimate sacrifice. When I think about that number, I am drowned by sorrow. 50 families.... 50 flashbacks of a difficult movie in my mind.

As these pictures, thoughts, and feelings flood my mind and heart, after the tragic event in Boston, I try and look for anything that would make it better. Nothing exists. Holidays, birthdays, everyday routines, all that will never be the same is on my mind. All of the sudden, I find myself crying. I find myself wishing for a rewind button. For me, for my brother, for our family, and for all the other families.

It's been 11 months since the fire... 11 months since I was whole. It's been 11 months since I could ever be a bystander or stranger in a line of duty death.

My thoughts and prayers are with Boston, with the families. Wishing that the painful journey is cushioned by support today and everyday. My wish is that this is the last LODD...

The simple things

Funeral, Shiva, Unveiling,
People can understand how hard those are,
when someone dies.
People comfort you during those times.
Often, its those unpredictable moments,
simple moments,
that are the hardest.
In tears at work or while listening to a song,
watching a movie, or seeing something that reminds me,
that you are gone.

Going through my contact list on my phone today,
and there is your name.
Part of me wants to keep going fast,
another part of me wants to stop, and just for that moment,
pretend that I can press the button and call you.
Then there is the part that wonders if I should erase the contact.
It's so hard knowing that I can't call.
That I can't hear your voice.
Wishing heaven had a phone.

As time passes,
I start to forget the sound of your voice.
I can hear your words and see the facial expressions you would make.
I wish I had one voicemail left,
so that I could listen to your voice.

PLAY "BIG" ... Remembering Devin

I remember February 11th as if it was yesterday...
At work for what I thought would be a normal day,
Instead everything changed early that morning.

I spoke to Devin the night before..
I actually hung up on him because he was making fun of me,
and he wanted to eat Mom's meatloaf .
We were planning the next after school conditioning session.
Not much time was left before the season would start.

He would always say.. "got your back"
He was so excited to be on the sidelines.
I was so excited to have stolen him from the guys.
He had made an immediate impact on the girls...
We needed him.

I still have the voice mail he sent me,
saying he would accept the job!
His excitement was obvious...

I instantly thought of the girls,
some mourners for the first time.
I thought of how I could wrap my arms around them all,
and let them know we will travel this journey together.
We met, we talked, we shared, we cried.
We came together.
I held it together, tried to stay strong,
knowing I had to be a pillar for them to lean on.
(little did I know how they would soon return the favor)

I remember thinking how hard this could possibly be,
on his parents, his siblings, his family.
A young life taken so soon,
A life with so much still to give.
I remember going to the house...
Not knowing what to say.
Not knowing how to act.
Wanting to take away the pain,
Yet, knowing I couldn't.


It was almost as if God was preparing me...
for what was to come-

We played BIG in 2013.
We played for Devin.
I tried to do what we planned...
(minus the sitting on the chair, eating chips, and playing leap frog
I never really agreed to that... did I?)

Miss you BIG!
I know your up there with Gene laughing as I stress at lacrosse season starting.
Cheering us on as we head into 2014 (plus two angels watching over us)!

Words

Words are funny. They can comfort. They can hurt. They can mislead.
Words are not one dimensional.
They have many meanings.

When Gene died, I heard a lot of words.
Some I have forgotten.
Some I try to forget.
Some are stored away in texts, emails, cards.
Some comfort and some hurt.
Some are difficult to hear and some are difficult to answer.
Some are broken.

I was recently reminded by someone else grieving a great loss,
that words can be cheap. How true.

Then there are words hard to find...
When people say "how are you doing?"
I don't know how to answer.
I am sad, very sad. I am overwhelmed, I am angry.. (Yes, even today)
So most of the time I just simply say " I am okay."
I know its as hard for those asking as they are not sure what to say.
I don't want them to stop asking,
I just don't always know how to answer.
If I explain how I really am, will they be sorry they asked?
If I say I am okay, do they think I am lying or avoiding...
I just don't know how to answer it.

And words uncomfortable to some...
The other day, someone brought up my brother
and quickly followed it by saying "I am so sorry I brought it up"
The words "Gene", "your brother"
those are words I want to hear.
It helps me to know he has not been forgotten,
that he is not out of sight, out of mind
I want to talk about him...
I want to tell stories
To share words about him
I do it ever- time Noa and I are going through her daily naming of family members.
I always add "Uncle Gene" .. (she is getting better at saying Gene)

and then there are words that are yet to come...
I hope that when she asks about Uncle Gene one day, that I find the right words



                                                     Gene and Noa (Hanukkah 2012)

Unanswered Questions

Does knowing make things better?
I have always been a student of the why and how.
When Gene got hurt, we concentrated on how to get him better.
When he died, our focus was how to survive.
Now, we find ourselves concentrating on the why. The unknown why.

I know it would not be easier if Gene had a terminal illness.
There would always be questions.
I know that no matter how a loved one dies,
there are always holes.
I am not insensitive to anyone else's loss,
but sometimes I wonder what that information would do.
and yes, I know, none of it will change the outcome.

With every report or conversation,
I question more the why and how.
I wonder more what happened in that room,
on the second floor of that home.
Did Gene suffer? Was he scared?
I want to believe that knowing would help.
That knowing would help us move forward in this journey.
The truth is, we may never know.
We may never know why Gene died!
That is very hard to live with.

Time References

We are used to hearing BCE and CE when referring to historical dates and events (some use AC and BC)

For me, when speaking about dates and events in life, it is marked by the time that has passed since Gene died.

I can tell you the exact amount of time that has passed

8 Months today

245.3194 Days

5887.66 Hours (if we count from this exact moment I am typing)

353260  Minutes

My life will forever be divided into two time periods.

With Gene, Without Gene.

Before Gene died, After Gene died.

In the time that has elapsed, I have gathered piles of paperwork and mail.

(You will never believe how many magazines that boy subscribed to!

Or how many forms you have to fill out)

1000's of sympathy cards.

What is one to do with all those cards? 

Keep them? 

Getting rid of them seems like giving up a little part of Gene.

In that time, I have learned...

more than I ever wanted to about estate law and workmen's compensation policies.

About words and the impact they have (another day, another blog).

That not everything happens for a reason.

How strong I can be.

About who to trust and count on.

How to hold it together when wanting to fall apart.

About how precious life really is.

How to accept support.

But mostly, about how much my brother was and is loved.

I hope he knew.

Because he would have smiled! A really BIG smile!

I miss him everyday.

But for some reason its 1000 times grater on the 2nd of each month.

I miss his stubbornness.His inability to answer my phone calls.

Hearing him stump up and down steps.Seeing him wear sunglasses indoors.

His smile. Goofing off until someone got hurt (he is my little brother after all).

I miss his squeezes (which is what I call hugs with Noa now).

His ability to eat an entire pizza on his own.

I miss his presence. I miss life before Gene died.

You know who else misses him? 

Papa John's.

Not sure how they are staying in business anymore!

It's been 8 months.

I feel like there should be a check list of what happens each month (I am sure there is one out there somewhere), but I know that is not reality.

This journey is individualized. Without rules. Without time frames. 

I accept that.

And as one very smart Rabbi reminded me, time does not heal all!

I miss his shaggy hair!
Gene came home from college with a lot of hair, but we convinced him to return to a buzz cut rather quickly!