Dealing with the death of my younger brother, spending time in his room alone.
|Looking outside his bedroom window:|
It reminds me of how I would pull up in my car at night in front of the house and see Casey’s little head sticking out of the window, with every single one of his lights on. My whole house was usually dark by 9pm, except for the front left two windows (which was Casey’s bedroom window’s).
For as long as I can remember he had always been awake, the moment he would hear my loud muffler he must have jumped right up in his bed and stuck his head right out of the window. This was obviously when he was much younger, I mean there was times recently in which he asked me when I would be home from running because he would sit out on the front lawn in one of the aterandek chairs and smoke a cigarette and wait for me to arrive home safely. We were both very sketchy by nature, so this was expected behavior.
Even though I always had my trusty oven cleaner disguised as mace mini spray bottle in hand, it was always comforting to know that he cared. Yes, I empty mace spray bottles and replace the mace with oven cleaner because, mace is for amateurs and people don’t come back from oven cleaner. (Remember that & don’t say my blog never taught you anything).
Mace gives you a solid 60 seconds to escape. Oven Cleaner gives you a day to escape, you could run back to your house, grab a folding chair and make yourself a bay breeze (umbrella included) and return back to the crime scene and the oven cleaner damage would still be in full effect.
Two words: Oven Cleaner.
Returning back to the point I was trying to get at before I began to educate everyone on my hood rat survival tactic’s, this picture of this little girl reminds me of Casey, but obviously not in the female respect. Even when my mom refused to cut his hair it was still very apparent that he was a boy.
This pictured reminded me of Casey, notice remind is being used in the past tense. This picture currently reminds me of myself. There are nights I pull up to the house and avoid looking at his window’s and then their are nights I purposely look at his window’s, expecting that his room be pitch dark, sometimes I like to remind myself of the pain and discomfort if that makes any sense at all.
I go into my brother’s room a lot, if I am having a really bad day I get right up in his bed and emerge my face in his pillows, which still smell like him and it’s comforting and calming. I think it creeps my parent’s out but at this point, all three of us have been creeping each other out for 26 years so, I obviously could care less. (In a good way).
Tonight I went into his room, sat in his office chair and looked out at the dimly lit street light and tried to imagine how it felt to be the younger sibling, was he more eager to grow up because he had to witness me growing up, driving, barreling around the corner with my noisy muffler and stupid music blasting.
I don’t know, but for the last three years, counting tonight … I turned into the one who was forever starring out of the window. Grief is a crazy thing, no matter how stable of an individual you may have thought you were, nothing prepares you for the really weird things you might do after the passing of a loved one. On really bad night’s I go in his room and grab the shirt he wore right before he passed, which we haven’t washed and I put it on my pillow and fall asleep on it. If someone had told me a story about some chick that lost her brother that did that same exact thing, I’d most likely not want to meet her. I was a different person back then though, way less empathetic, way less in tune with my emotions.
I tried so hard in the beginning to be strong and resilient but actually it just kind of made me feel creepier than I do for sleeping with his dirty laundry. It is better to be true to your emotions when grieving. If you want to act really weird in the beginning and say really odd things, this is the time to do it. Grief it all in at once … allow yourself to be weird.
Allow yourself to be weird so that you don’t end up being reckless.
I miss you Casey. I hope you’re watching me (not all the time though, obviously I need my space)… but I hope you can see all the good you have done for me and how you have changed me and the way in which I want to live my life.
Just wanting to do right by you, forever.