Last night I had a dream. I was at a bridal shower or party at my grandparent's old house. There were bits and pieces of weirdness. I was traveling in a car at one point, left my purse in another car and somehow ended up missing a teddy bear from my childhood. However, the part I remember most was hugging my brother. He was at the party at my grandparent's house and in the dream I hadn't seen him in a while. I walked towards him and he asked if I had grown taller. I slipped my shoes off and then he gave me a hug. I remember feeling happy because it had been so long since I saw him. He was smiling and happy.
When I woke up, hugging my brother was not the most odd part of my dream. I didn't even process that I couldn't really hug my brother until I told my fiance about the dream. That is when it all became real. I don't forget that my brother died, but sometimes it's not always consciously present in my mind.
Even though the dream makes me sad, I am happy. I'm happy that in my dream I got to hug my brother and tell him how much I miss him.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Birthday, Anger and Lost
My brother's birthday is fast approaching. For the past two years I've made a Facebook event to have people celebrate his birthday by paying it forward. I like the idea of celebrating on this day, and it excites me to think of people remembering my brother. I'm toying with the idea of making a page for this annual event. I like the idea of April 3rd becoming a day when people intentionally do a good deed. It's like a gift.
Often I think about what my brother would think about this crazy idea. But when I start to think like that I realize how long it's been since I've heard his voice or watched him roll his eyes at me. This August will mark three years since his death. It's been three years since I began my struggle with understanding his death. I still remember sitting at Friendly's with my Pastor as she told me it was okay to be angry with/at God. I never bothered to ask her how long was it okay.
I find myself upset when I read happy psalms praising God for looking out for people, and guarding them. I'm angry that the psalmist felt that way. I'm angry that I felt like that once. The problem is that this is transferred anger. I'm not really angry at the Psalmist for composing a beautiful Psalm praising God. I'm not angry at myself because I use to praise God for the amazing things God does. I'm angry because my brother died. I've realized that the steps of grief, or whatever, are not linear, and that there are no time limits associated with the steps. I'm still angry. I've just pushed it onto things that have nothing to do with my brother's death.
I'm currently writing a paper about Psalm 121. The beginning the psalmist looks up to the hills, for that is where their help comes. The help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. I can't read this Psalm without thinking about my brother. I can't help but think of his death and that God, the God who made heaven and earth, not helping. In the following verses, the psalmist talks about God as one who guards. The protect of God is praised. When I read that God protects and guards I want to fully embrace those words. I want to run with those words, wrap up inside those words and embrace them: but I cannot.
Where was God when my brother died? Why did God not protect or guard my brother? Can I believe that God guards over me? How can I reconcile this?
Honestly, I don't know. I know that the idea of God protecting me is something I can't completely wrap my head around theologically. Sometimes bad things happen. Does God control these bad things? I'd like to think that God isn't pulling strings and that God allows us some type of free will. Therefore it would follow that God doesn't cause bad things to happen. If God does not cause bad things to happen then where is God? Surely God could protect us, and guard us from these bad things that God does not make happen. I guess I don't know what God is really up to. I guess I can't answer why bad things happen. And I don't know why God did not guard my brother as he drove his motorcycle home from work that clear, beautiful August evening that quickly turned into a nightmare.
I continue to be in awe of God, even though I'm angry. I continue to give my praise, even though my voice is not so strong. I continue to live, even though sometimes it's hard. I continue to cry, a lot, for the brother I've lost.
Often I think about what my brother would think about this crazy idea. But when I start to think like that I realize how long it's been since I've heard his voice or watched him roll his eyes at me. This August will mark three years since his death. It's been three years since I began my struggle with understanding his death. I still remember sitting at Friendly's with my Pastor as she told me it was okay to be angry with/at God. I never bothered to ask her how long was it okay.
I find myself upset when I read happy psalms praising God for looking out for people, and guarding them. I'm angry that the psalmist felt that way. I'm angry that I felt like that once. The problem is that this is transferred anger. I'm not really angry at the Psalmist for composing a beautiful Psalm praising God. I'm not angry at myself because I use to praise God for the amazing things God does. I'm angry because my brother died. I've realized that the steps of grief, or whatever, are not linear, and that there are no time limits associated with the steps. I'm still angry. I've just pushed it onto things that have nothing to do with my brother's death.
I'm currently writing a paper about Psalm 121. The beginning the psalmist looks up to the hills, for that is where their help comes. The help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. I can't read this Psalm without thinking about my brother. I can't help but think of his death and that God, the God who made heaven and earth, not helping. In the following verses, the psalmist talks about God as one who guards. The protect of God is praised. When I read that God protects and guards I want to fully embrace those words. I want to run with those words, wrap up inside those words and embrace them: but I cannot.
Where was God when my brother died? Why did God not protect or guard my brother? Can I believe that God guards over me? How can I reconcile this?
Honestly, I don't know. I know that the idea of God protecting me is something I can't completely wrap my head around theologically. Sometimes bad things happen. Does God control these bad things? I'd like to think that God isn't pulling strings and that God allows us some type of free will. Therefore it would follow that God doesn't cause bad things to happen. If God does not cause bad things to happen then where is God? Surely God could protect us, and guard us from these bad things that God does not make happen. I guess I don't know what God is really up to. I guess I can't answer why bad things happen. And I don't know why God did not guard my brother as he drove his motorcycle home from work that clear, beautiful August evening that quickly turned into a nightmare.
I continue to be in awe of God, even though I'm angry. I continue to give my praise, even though my voice is not so strong. I continue to live, even though sometimes it's hard. I continue to cry, a lot, for the brother I've lost.
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