A post for a Brother- July 15, 2015

In about a week, it will have been a year since I should have returned from my mission.

Which means it's been about 18 months since the accident.

Mind blown...

***

How am I doing? 

Fine, I guess.

Good. 

Excellent.

Grand.

Isn't that what I am supposed to say? 

***

Nobody likes a "Debbie Downer." But what about a "Rebecca Realist?" Where is that fine line? 

***

How am I doing?

Fine, I guess.

Today is hard.

Good!

So tired. So so tired...

Excellent!

Struggling, but it's just a phase. It will pass.

Grand!

It has to.

Right?

***

Fact: it's time to move on.

I know. I know that.

And I have. For the most part. But there are still triggers. Stupid blasted triggers. They like to hide and shoot at me from out of nowhere. Pretty normal though. It's not even new anymore.

But, they still surprise me.

Like this morning when I was triggered simply because of a phone call. Or  it may be boredom, not doing anything for X amount of hours can put me over the age. 

Or maybe it's just plain depression. That's the only explanation that I can think of.

***

Last night, I couldn't help myself. I got on Keegan's Facebook page.

It was a hard night. Work had not gone as well as planned, which is all part of life, I know. But man, sometimes people are just heartless.

I stared at his picture.

I don't know why I did it. But I started typing him a message on his wall. Maybe I just needed to get things out of me, vent my frustrations. For whatever reason, I just wanted to talk to my brother. I wanted to talk to him about being married. I wanted to talk about work. I wanted to know what he's been up to. Can he still play basketball in heaven? Or date? Or do gymnastics? I just wanted to have a conversation, like we used to.

Mostly though, I wanted to know his secret.

How was it he was always so happy?

How did you do it, Keegs? 

I typed and typed. I typed until I couldn't anymore. I told him everything I was feeling. I wrote it like a letter. I finished and stared.

...

It's not like he's going to read this. 

...

I know it's been 18 months. I know it's been a while. But when it's you, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. The feeling will sometimes last longer than desired. Sometimes, it kicks you in the gut.

I wanted to send it in a private message.

There wasn't any option of that.

I deleted the message.

***

I wonder what it was like for Jesus's disciples. What was it like when their best friend was gone? Where could they turn to? I'm sure they were more than devastated. It had to have been scarring...

I wonder what it was like when he appeared to them again. I wonder what that feeling is like; to see one that you loved so much who have died to come back and see you, and speak to you.

I wonder what it was like even after he was gone. Did it still hurt, even though they knew where he was? Was it still hard even though they knew that his purpose was done? 

Was it hard knowing that his purpose of living was to die? For them? For all? 

What was it like when the person who literally had ALL the answers was gone? What was it like when they just wanted to talk to their friend, their leader, their brother, but he couldn't physically speak to them? 

How did they go on?

What was their secret? 

Did they have gut-kicking moments? Did they still grieve? Did they still experience heartache? 

I have a hard time believing that they didn't have some moments like that. Maybe that's just me though. But, they were still human, right? Heroes, but human.

Did it feel like how I feel? 

I can only assume it was.

***

So maybe he couldn't read my post. I won't lie and say that's ok. 

But I know that someday... someday it will be. 

One day, we will talk face to face again. 

I'm sure there will be lots to talk about by then.