The Little Things

So far I have managed to maneuver some big, messy, emotional events without my brother. 

But the little things that pop up, and remind me of what he is missing- and what I am missing without him- devastate me emotionally. 

One example is this year's football season. Kevin and I have hosted a fantasy football league for years. And Ryan played in our league a few times. Ryan had an uncanny knack for sports facts, and football was no exception. Everyone admired Ryan's 'useless knowledge'- which was useful during fantasy football. Ryan knew so much about players, teams, and schedules. He was a fantastic asset to me, because unlike the rivalry between friends, Ryan would help me make a good, solid decision on who to play, but then his team would beat mine anyways that weekend. He never cheated me and he always helped me out. Always. 

This year we aren't hosting a league and it is heartbreaking. I miss it. But I think I would miss his presence more, making it difficult to play, diminishing my desire to win. 

I can't really put into words just how sad I am. It's a bunch if things all at once- September 1 was the opening of dove season. Ryan always hunted the opener and last year he made me promise to hunt this year with him.

I didn't, he didn't, we didn't, and the world seems more messed up because of it. 

Time seems to be flying by, and I feel like too soon the holidays will be upon us.

I don't even want to imagine how 'wrong' Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years will feel without my brother's goofy smile and antics. 

Soon we will pass through this stage, and time for the plans we made with Ryan will pass, and we won't be as sad. Or maybe we will. 

This is uncharted territory, and we each experience this loss so differently.

All I know is that with each passing day, the hole in my life becomes more obvious and I cry more. This is not a nightmare, this is real life, and I have to keep transitioning and growing.

Time waits for no man, as they say. 

I look forward to our reunion in Heaven, and I am committed to this process of character development that God is refining me through.

Romans 8:28 says "all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose." 

So, God, I love You. I am called. And I'm willing to work to see the good. 

--Julie--

Conflict

I've been dragging my feet with this post, because my last one seemed to be a little more offensive than intended. But to be really, brutally honest, I'm sure this one will be worse.

 

Because there is a fine line between total honesty and being offensive. A line I skirt way too often than completely necessary. Or maybe it is necessary.

 

Everyone should be free to grieve in their own way, as long as they don't physically hurt themselves or others. Sometimes the realist in me wants to scream at all of the fake grief floating around out there for my brother. From those people who claim they knew him. Those people who sport the ribbon as if they suffer. Those people who post pictures minutes after I do, who mock my utter devastation by crying out for attention and exploiting the memory of my dead brother.

Nothing NOTHING pierces my heart deeper than seeing the photos and posts with the tag lines like "you were like a brother to me, Ryan."

SHUT UP!!!

 

Ryan IS my brother! MY brother. There were only TWO of us, me and him.

 

Trust me, this cross I bear is not glamorous. There isn't some fantastic support system in place, where people call me regularly to check on me. On the contrary, this road is lonely. Most of the attention is negative- people telling me to 'get over' it and 'move on'...

(not all - there are a select few who show me tenderness and love)

I don't want the calls anyways- I can't really talk about how I feel with people who cannot begin to understand where I've been and what I've seen- but that's a whole 'nother can of worms.

 

 But the compassionate heart inside me wants to cut my tongue off when I try to choke these words out.

If that is what you need to do to feel attention, pretend to cry over someone who isn't around anymore to set the record straight, go ahead - but don't cry to me.

If what you need is to cry to the people who hurt the worst, then maybe you really are suffering.

But I will not bend over backwards to accommodate your tears.

I can barely see through my own blurred vision, enough to function at a minimum-output level.

I do my best to cover the sleepless nights with caffeine, and the permanent heartache with a smile.

I don't have the strength in my soul to lift you from the fog you claim is grief.

I am in the muck, praying my own way out.

 

So grieve, fake grievers.

Just leave me any my family out of it.

 

--Julie--

 

 

Thanks, but no thanks..

I want Ryan back. That much is pretty plain to see. But what you don't see is this little piece of me that dies every time someone tells me, by their own determination, that Ryan would be proud of me, what I have accomplished, or what I will do in the future.

The fact is that you don't know.

I don't know.

No one this side of Heaven knows if he would be proud of me.

No one knows if he would get that twinkle in his eyes and give me the thumbs-up. I can surmise, based on our relationship, if he would or not. But you can't. You aren't Him or him or me.

If I was a good sister, maybe I would have done more. I know this, because I COULD have done more.

If I was a good sister, maybe things would have turned out differently.

Maybe.

But no one can know.

 

So, please, if you care to tell me that you think Ryan would be proud - skip it.

Tell me that you think that I am doing good, or don't.

But don't fool me by thinking that you know Ryan's thoughts. Maybe he would have hated all of this... Maybe not...

I'll find out when I get to Heaven.

 

--Julie--

Team Ryan M. Lauchland Memorial Fund

Today, 47 men, women, and children gathered in Modesto to participate in the Out Of Darkness Community Walk, for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

47 wonderful friends work our RMLMF t-shirts and sported green, to bear tribute to my baby brother - whom I lost in April to suicide.

 

 

I want to say thank you to everyone who sponsored me, motivated me, supported me,

and walked with me.

I am humbled, blessed, and appreciative.

 

--Julie--