Wednesday, September 26, 2012

To Have Love and Lost and to have Lived

I sit on my balcony, shrouded in pine trees, glancing up at the starry pre-dawn sky. Next time I'm in the mountains, I should remember the stars. I used to spend hours watching them in my youth.

Looking back, it's funny that I dreaded something like my birthday. Perhaps the changes brought by the Autumnal Equinox likewise shifted something in my logic, but I welcome it. A year ago yesterday, on my thirtieth birthday, the terrible loss of my Brother was discovered. He had passed two days earlier, but that didn't change the perceptions and it certainly didn't change the date listed on the certificate of death.

I felt selfish for wanting a day to celebrate my own birth. I simmered in guilt and anger that forever my solar return was tainted in the tragic loss from the Earth. I couldn't reconcile the two and for the two months leading up to my birthday, I wallowed in depression and self-hate.

With my travels slowing down, I lacked the distraction of something fast-paced that I could utterly lose myself to. And yet I lacked the time to connect with those I needed most to keep me grounded and level-headed.

Yesterday morning as I read memorials to my Brother alongside exclamations for my birthday, I cried. I noted the parallel threads to Jeff and he said something along the lines that it sucks that I'll have to deal with that forever.

And then I made a choice. In seconds everything about the way I felt and thought about this day changed, because I decided it needed to. In a moment, self-loathing turned to celebration. I basked in the knowledge that I had the blessing of sharing my day with someone so special. In a moment in time we represent both sides of the coin of life. He would have been pleased knowing that we together kept the momentum of Libra-balance going. It's a little running joke we had going for over ten years and it makes me happy even if no one else understands.

I'm done with the sadness, even though I would much rather have one of his infamous bear hugs. Much rather hear him say, "Happy Birthday, sweetheart," than hear it echoing in my mind. I will relish the memories I have rather than mourn them when I walk by his photograph several times a day.

Peace be with my Brother. And peace be with me.

Updated 10/12/2012 to fix BlogPress formatting.