The Catalyst

Do you ever feel like things are just as they should be? Everything seems to be falling into place, challenges have been overcome, sacrifices have been made, and the time has come to sit back and just enjoy it. That is where we were. I had a wonderful, supportive husband (and thankfully, still do), and two handsome little boys. We had moved into a beautiful home in the suburbs northwest of Chicago, my husband had a steady job with a steady income. Things were good. Of course, that is when I should have known better. Because as soon as things get good, WHAM!, life throws you a curve ball that you never could have prepared for. In my case, it was tragedy, the fastest way to turn an entire world upside down. 

It was one of those middle of the night, immediate dread in the pit of your stomach, not a chance of it being anything but bad news phone calls. It took everything in my power to answer the phone, and before a word was spoken I was hyperventilating.  My baby brother had been hit by a car. He was unconscious, in critical condition, and they needed his family to come to the hospital immediately. I asked a single question, "Is there time?". Her response told me everything I needed to know, "Be safe, but please hurry". We ended up making it to the hospital in time. Not really sure in time for what... to hear what had happened, to see the extent of his injuries, to sit helplessly by his bedside for days, to say goodbye. 

Nothing can prepare you for the loss of a loved one. Especially one that is young, healthy and full of life with nothing but time ahead of them. There is a certain inability to comprehend how you can be talking, laughing and hugging someone, only to be holding their hand as they die a few hours later. I went through (and will still be going through for some time) all the stages you are supposed to when you are grieving, some for longer than others, others more than once. It was an emotional roller coaster of anger, disbelief, guilt, pain, loneliness, and depression. Somewhere along the way, I felt the need to act, to not let his death be an ending, but a catapult for a new beginning.

My sister and her family were living in Arizona, and not being with them made me feel like we were throwing away precious days and weeks, especially since our children were so close in age (4,3,2 & 1 this year!). Death has a way of making you see just how mortal you really are. It rips away any sense of comfort or safety you may feel. It makes you feel like your time is limited, and you’d better make the most of it. So, my husband got a new job, we packed up all our belongings (after just nine months in our new home), and headed to Arizona. I firmly believe that beauty is good for the soul. The closer we got, the lighter the weight on my chest became. Waking up to incredible mountains on this amazing landscape does wonders for your mood. It really does make it feel like vacation every day. It felt good to feel some peace.

We moved into our new home, hopefully our last for quite some time. We are slowly getting back to that place where we were before, that sneaky, elusive place that we like to call “good”. Of course, I will never be the same. Our family will never be the same. We lost an important, irreplaceable piece of our already slightly distorted puzzle. We have all become different people, changing to accommodate our tragedy in our own ways. Each of our pieces has grown to include a part of the piece that was lost. Yet somehow, that is how we will manage to fit back together again. We no longer create the same picture when put together, but this new picture looks like it might just be okay, too.

In Loving Memory TRP 7/10/84-6/22/11