Mixed bag

Hey, folks. I'm just going to lay it on you. Can you dig?

This week is a bit rough. It's the anniversary of two deaths in my family. Some people think I'm silly for going on and on about a pet, but perhaps some folks who have siblings can relate to the second.

A year ago, I lost my kitty Gizmo to two grand mal seizures. It was very traumatic to witness. He died in my arms. I was halfway through my pregnancy, and it was just a really rough time for me. Gizmo was one of the best animals I've ever been blessed to know. I miss him tremendously.

I'll never forget the way that Amos was kicking me furiously when Gizmo passed away. One life slipped away while another demonstrated the vigor of life.

A few days later, my brother Mark died. It was quite sudden and unexpected. That day, I didn't know if my body was capable of continuing. I would cry, and Amos would give me big kicks to let me know that I had someone else to think about. Without Amos, I'm not sure I would have been okay.

Phil and I drove to Texas to attend Mark's service. It was an incredibly strange but revealing trip. I learned a great deal about my family that week, more than I thought I would ever know. I saw frailty, honesty, and so many characteristics in my father in particular.

So, now, when I look out into my yard and see snow in January, I remember the three gigantic blizzards we had last year. I remember waiting a day to bury Gizmo, so that the air was a bit warmer. I remember watching Phil dig through feet of snow to give a resting place for our friend. And I remember driving to Texas and feeling strangely warm weather and being attacked by the cedar pollen. I had to hold my shit together in front of my dad, otherwise he would continue to worry that he was going to lose another child. He would worry that the stress was going to cause me to lose Amos.

It's a bit hard for me to feel happiness right now. I want to smile and remember them fondly, but I think it takes more than a year to get to that point. Losing a brother is a sobering experience. It made me realize my own mortality, my own frailty, and my responsibility to a new life. I wish that Amos could have met Mark and learn to love the man who was so handsome, full of life, and mirth.

It feels better to reflect on these pictures and remember the good stuff. I'm going to try to focus on that.

Hug your loved ones, folks. Let them know you love them.