Today, November 27th, 2008 marks the third anniversary of my brother Eddie's passing. And of all days, it has to land on Thanksgiving. As I realize more and more that this day is upon my family and I, I end up feeling emptier inside. It's a slow sense of sorrow that engulfs me. I don't feel the need to scream out of anger or weep out of sadness, but it's a day where I feel compelled to sit, think, and let the emptiness wash over me.
Writing in this journal seems to be helpful because it allows me to throw all the thoughts I'm having into an external media outside of my own mind. I don't think what I'm writing is making much sense right now. Regardless, it's helping.
The memories of the hospital as Eddie laid on his bed flashes through my mind, like one of those intense scenes in a medical show. The only difference is that doctors weren't rushing to provide Eddie resesitation to regain life. Instead Eddie was slowly allowed to pass away in peace with his family members around him. I still remember placing my hand over his heart and said out loud, "I don't feel his heart beating" then looked over to the nurse who gave me the slow nod of confirmation that it was the end.
From that night and every single moment after that I live to continue making Eddie proud of me. I'm sure I will encounter pitfalls, but I know I will overcome them and get back on the path to succeeding in this goal. I love you, Eddie. Thank you for watching over me all my life.
