It’s been awhile…life has been busy or maybe I’ve just isolated myself.  It’s amazing how quickly time passes.  In the blink of an eye time is gone.  You wonder where it went and when you think back…you can’t seem to place it.  I suppose it’s one of those things in life.  Time is relative.  We create time because we need structure.  We have a desire to be somewhere or do something.  Time consumes us, as a society.  Time.

I am sitting here and I’m reminded that it’s been a little over 9 months since my kid brother took his life.  Time…time has passed.  I am measuring his loss in time.  Time that has passed, the time I have missed with him, the time I didn’t spend with him.  I miss him – more than I though imaginable.  I have managed to create logic surrounding his death.  I’m pretty logical anyway; but I’ve created this state of logic that helps me justify his death.  It helps me compartmentalize my thoughts and my feelings.  I haven’t looked at how his death has truly affected me because well, to me it hasn’t had a negative impact, but really in being honest with myself – it has.

His death has created a void I wasn’t ready for.  I am far more irritable.  I am intolerant.  I question my decisions and I question my career.  I question what I’m doing with my life.  Am I as in as much pain as he was?  Am I just better able to handle my own pain than he was his?  I see people and I wonder why they still walk this earth…do they really deserve that opportunity?  I don’t get to decide that.  Perhaps that is a good thing.  Why do they get more time?  He had so little…

How much time do we get?  We never know; but we live for “the next time.”  For some of us that “next time” never comes.  We’ll do things in time.  We’ll do it tomorrow or next year or in five years.  We will do it in due time.  I am guilty of this…daily.  I wear a watch and I keep track of time. What does it do for me?  It gives me stability and security.  It gives me structure.  But even with all the stabilty, security, and structure…time is still wasted and my heart still has a lack of understanding of time.  

It’s been 9 months and I have spent 9 months refusing to allow myself to miss him.  I have refused to be angry with him.  I have refused to do just about anything.  Maybe in time.  How may times have I said that?  More than I can count I’m sure.  I have found myself wondering how much time he spent planning his suicide.  How much time did he take from the time did he take to find the courage to put a gun to his face?  How much time did it take for him to pull the trigger?  Did he take the time to think it through.  Reality is…I think he did.  It was methodical and thought out. But there wasn’t enough time to save him.

Was he scared?  Did he cry?  Did he scream?  What was he thinking?  Did he know we loved him…no matter what?  Did he struggle to pull the trigger?  In time I will never have answers because there aren’t any.  He took the answers with him.  The one thing time cannot do is change the decision he made that night.  It cannot change the heartache I feel.  It cannot undue all that has been done.  Time was not on his side…time did not treat him well, I guess.

Time has the ability to teach us many of things.  Do we really learn those lessons?  Do we take it for granted?  Do we live by it?  Time…it really doesn’t exist…not in the grand scheme of things. And time, it doesn’t really matter.