4 and a half

This is the best age ever. Totally! Four was hell but Four and a Half is heaven. There's such a big difference.

We went to the Dogwood Festival in Phoenixville last weekend. We stopped at the parade and then walked over to the rides. I didn't tell Cha beforehand where we were going. (Mainly because it was a complete spur of the moment thing.) We got in the car and I told her that we were going someplace fun, because she was being such a good girl. She was so excited trying to figure out where we were headed. And when I told her that we were meeting one of her BFF's (Cait) she got even more excited. She was happy when we got to the corner of Main and Bridge to watch the parade and then beamed when she found out that the cars were throwing CANDY. We watched for about a half hour then walked down to the rides, where we met up with Cait and her mom Val. Those two girls are so great together. They're both a bit tomboy-ish and on every ride opted for the 'boy' choice. (Let's go on the Monkey Ride. Shall we sit in the Pink Monkey or the Black Monkey?? Black Monkey!!) It's fun to just stand back and watch them live.

We won two of the biggest goldfish I've ever seen. Cha calls them Rosie and Nemo and surprisingly, they are still alive. (Cait's two fish didn't last 24 hours.) She hasn't paid much attention to them since Saturday afternoon. The cats took notice immediately. I already know how this is going to play out. These wouldn't be the first fish that Petey Cat has 'played' with.


Life is good when you know a 4 and a Half year old.

6 Months

This week marked six months since my brother died. The actual day just happened to be the same day as the monthly Survivors of Suicide meeting. I've only missed one meeting in that six months and find the sessions very helpful, even more so than the cancer survivor meetings which I stopped attending long, long ago.

There were five attendees who were dealing with the loss of siblings, which is rare. Most of the losses are parents, children or spouses. Siblings seem to be the forgotten mourners. The facilitator said something during the first session I attended that has stuck with me. Siblings are the longest relationship you will ever have in your life. Longer than your parents, spouses or children. They have known you since birth and you are in each other's lives (one way or another) until death. Yet even with that significance, siblings don't get the same amount of attention when there is a loss. People are quick to check on the parents or spouses of a suicide victim but never realize that the brother or sister might need the same support.

So it was good to talk about losing my brother with others who have lost theirs. A few things that we all had in common? A tremendous amount of guilt. We were their brothers/sisters, why couldn't we save them? And every one of us in the room felt things ended on bad terms. There were harsh words, angry hang-ups, mean emails or long term silence. Normal sibling bickering that ended in the most cruel way. There is no making-up or saying 'Dude, I'm sorry.' Just stupid, angry words that will hang in your thoughts forever.

Another thing that we all experienced was the internal struggle within in the family, especially with remaining siblings. Some no longer speak, and others are so pissed at the way their surviving brothers/sisters have acted since the loss that all they do is fight. Families are torn apart and are never the same. Isn't that the last thing you need at such a crappy time in your life?

I'm so thankful for finding this group. It helps to talk, yell and cry with people who know exactly how you are feeling and hear from those who are farther down the recovery road. To hear that altho it will never be alright, it will be better. It's wonderful to have the freedom to say things that you could never say to your family and friends and not be thought of as bitter or crazy.

Anyway, here are a few especially hard moments:

Saying their name, or meeting someone with the same name
Saying 'my 2 brothers' instead of 'my 3 brothers'
That first family picture without the missing loved one
That point when you can tell that family/friends/co-workers, etc. really don't want to hear about it anymore

I miss you Keith.

Bad, bad, survivor!

This weekend is the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Philadelphia. It's the Mother's Day 5k that I have participated in the past 2 years. It is a beautiful and emotional event and I support Susan G. Komen 100%. I've raised several thousand dollars during those two years and am very happy with the experience.

I signed up this year and raised a few pennies but sometime between last December when I registered and the last couple of weeks I decided not to walk.

You see, it's Mother's Day. And I am a Mother. A mother who just happened to have had breast cancer. Cancer has taken many things from me since I was diagnosed and I just don't want to give it another Mother's Day.

Some girlfriends and I talked about doing Relay for Life instead. We spoke to a representative from the American Cancer Society this morning and will be forming a team later this fall. Walks are typically held in spring and summer, so we're a little late getting started for this year but we will be all over it for next year.

So, if you're local (or even not so local!) and want to join us be sure to save the date - May 21, 2011. A few of us plan on staying the entire 24 hour period but don't expect the whole team to commit to the same. It will be fun, fun, fun!

always together

Keith! Jim! Joan! Dan!

I can't count the number of times my mother yelled our names when we were kids. The four names, always together and always in the same order. I can still hear it in my mind and it makes me smile. It's odd the things you hold on to from your youth.

Last month, on what would have been my brother's 47th birthday, Charlotte and I went tree shopping. I wanted to plant something to honor his memory, like the tree we planted for my Aunt Betty who passed away two years ago. We stopped by several nurseries and I found something I'd never seen before. It was a fruit cocktail tree. A single tree that grows four different fruit - peach, plum, nectarine and apricot. The four fruit, always together. It made me cry (tho pretty much everything does lately). I decided we had to plant that tree in Keith's memory and show that we will always be together. Somehow.

We finally got around to planting it today. Well, actually Matt did the planting while I stood silently and cried. Matt took great pains to make sure that the tree was planted just right. He gently dug the hole and sifted the soil, using only the good stuff. Matt spent a good hour getting that tree set properly in place because that's what his brother-in-law deserved. All the while I stood and watched and remembered.

It's simply beautiful.