I sometimes wonder how much you can handle. You. My blog reader and friend. How much can you really stomach? How much honesty?
I’m putting you to the test today.
I have to unload this. I can’t hold it in. Today, the pain is too much to handle.
Nearly 3 ½ years ago my only brother took the life of his good friend. And with that one action he destroyed so many people’s lives.
The beautiful man he took from his family. The son that will grow up without his father. The parents who will never see their “baby” again. The wife, brothers, friends…
My family. My parents. Me. My boys. Everyone close to both sides of this tragedy were affected in some way. I almost lost my Mother to her own hand because of his actions that fateful night.
I live only minutes from where it took place. And only minutes from where he is buried. Only minutes from where my brother awaited trial for two years. Only minutes from where this man used to live.
I live with pain you can’t likely fathom.
Although I do feel deep, penetrating pain for my parents, family and the victim’s friends, the people I feel it most deeply for are the victim, his parents/siblings and the boy left behind without a Daddy.
The boy. The sweet little child. The sweet little fatherless child. Oh God.
I sometimes wonder how I’ll find a way to live with this pain. How will I be able to move forward from this? I look at my son’s and sometimes shed tears for the realization that somewhere out there his son is mourning his father.
And not to mention the pain and conflicted feelings I live with because all this pain was caused by my brother’s hands. That’s a whole other set of emotions and a whole other story I care not to share at this time.
Some days it hits me like a ton of bricks. Today, it’s one of those days.
I think of his smile. I cry. I think of his son. I cry. I cry stinging, burning, painful tears.