The Possessions of Tragedy

 The television was still on the last channel you were watching. The setting was a freeze frame of you and the world as it was at that moment. For days, it stayed that way as though we were house-sitting for you. There was a dark reality coming, even though the worst possible scenario had already taken place. 

I don't recall how many times I had to walk through the front door before I finally did what had to be done. I was too busy reassembling your last days, hours, weeks, and months. I was awash in memories flooding in from multiple years, whispered into my ears as though they were moments ago.

The feelings I felt were clearly those of an impulsive young man who refused to sit still. Intensity ambushed me from the corners and the closets, settling the score that dealing with everything is inevitable, like it or not. 

Every molecule had to be dealt with, and with it came the emotional burst that accompanied it. We generated your response for every item touched along the way. Those that we separated and packed to take back with us were far easier to deal with than the others, which we immediately assigned as having no value, even though they held value to you. The new normal is a bitter warden.

It is a gauntlet of regret this process. Every choice I made, in which I could have shown you more appreciation, rolled in like a thick, dangerous fog. Navigating these storms of self-deprecating affliction just made the task of taking everything apart even more difficult.

Difficulty eventually gave way to momentum as the calendar days passed, betraying us as we never woke from the nightmare we were living. So we worked with love, defiance, and stoic pacification. 

We fell into a groove, and it felt like we were carrying on for you. We can be so self-deceptive at times; it's hard to trust anything. Then the cold rain came. Again, it was hard to distinguish between the past and the present. Tomorrow was a day we could never imagine; it would come. I firmly believed there was a chance I could die before dawn, and with the pain I was feeling, that would be alright.

Like on autopilot, we marched on diligently, declaring the honor we had, that we were raised among. Every Sunday afternoon, playing as a child on the floor at his feet, his presence just there, all the time, never knowing the gravity of these precious minutes. Riding in the backseat of the car, I have spent a lifetime looking at the rearview mirror, seeing a familiar face, eyes forward. It was a comfort that I took for granted. It turned out that the lifetime was as long as a summer day.

Numbness followed. Just wanting the sadness to be over, we finished it, through to its inevitable end. We somehow erased you. We told ourselves that we were taking part in you in three ways, and while that was true, we still undid your existence. I hated that.

So many years have passed since we had to pick up everything that had some sort of value to you and decide whether it would live or die. The disassembling of someone's life can only be done by those who love them. Yesterday, my family parted with many things that we had been holding onto. It evoked a strange sort of remorse, prompting me to revisit this difficult memory. I think sometimes we just need to be sad because we haven't healed completely. The things unfinished lurk in the shadows, awaiting the obscure call to the light. The ambush commences, and you ride it out, holding onto the sides of the boat.

I dreamed he was alive again over and over. So have my sisters. His life was going to be back for only a certain time. We had taken everything that belonged to him, and now, he had nothing. It is a twisted self-inflicted punishment that we cannot seem to let go of. Those dreams do not come as often anymore, but they still visit from time to time.

What is it about possessions that torments us emotionally? They always remind us that we could have given more to our loved ones. Had we, could the "stuff" have had lesser importance? I don't know. We are strange creatures. We each stumble according to our gifts. 

I know that some day, it will be the things that I have. They will mean something to my children, and they will make decisions. They will keep some and discard others. All I really want for them is to know my love. That is something I can really make happen right here today.