Grief’s Anniversary

I didn’t bring cake, but I received a wonderful gift

Photo by KT on Unsplash

This is weird. Like…really weird…I’m a military brat, and we have a reputation for being super shitty with emotional openness and vulnerability. Relationships, friendships, and death are things I for sure have struggled to relate to in any “normal” way, so how the fuck am I supposed to deal with a “grief anniversary”? Do I cry? Do I pretend like today is just another day? Do I get angry at people who seem to be trying to competitively out sad each other? Because I’ve already done all that, and it didn’t help me feel any better…it didn’t help me feel anything at all. It’s been six years since my brother passed. I was born 2, almost 3, years after he was. He was 25 when he passed. I’m 27 now. It’s so odd to think that I’m officially older than my older brother, but even more odd to think of what has to happen for those words to make sense.

Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

I’m rambling. What’s my point here? Oh yeah. There’s not really a textbook way to grieve, and the sooner we stop holding people to our standards of normalcy and grief, the happier we’ll all be. I’m talking to myself big time on that one. I think I spent so much time angry that I needed to be so many other people’s support systems over “MY brother’s” death that I didn’t realize that was the very thing that made me able to cope. It was the weaponization of my grief and the dedication to feel entitled to and in love with my sorrow that held me back for so long. I didn’t show the pain, I didn’t cry, I didn’t lash out, but I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t myself in a way that probably only I realized, and that selfishness was the biggest sign. I’ll never be “myself” again, and that’s okay. I don’t want to be. I want to be better, stronger, kinder, more openly loving, and more appreciative.

I think that we’re at our worst when we are who we were last year. So instead of taking this anniversary as a remembrance of what was, I will use it as a marker for what is and what will be. I believe that there’s enough remembrance of the past in the quiet moments. It’s not just the big events, birthdays, and holidays, but a song, a laugh, a game, a time that reminds us of our…