he would have been 29

March 29, 2009

today is march 29th, eric's birthday. he would have been 29 this year. i've been dreading this day for a long time now... pretty much ever since it's been the month of march. dreading what i might feel, dreading having to face reality. the truth is, i don't want to. i want to run and hide. i'm afraid to face what exists within me. i'm afraid of all the pain that lives so deep within. but at the same time, a part of me wants to face it, wants to deal with it, wants to be healed...

people think that pain heals over time. people think you just "move on" and go on with life. you can't. you won't. and to be perfectly honest, i don't ever want to "move on". i want to be able to remember as much as i can. i wish i had more pictures of eric. i wish i had more memories. it's harder to remember now. a lot harder. he seems so distant now. ann suggested i keep track of what eric liked to do. she suggested i keep track of memories together. we started a list last august and today, i opened that list up for the first time since. it was nice to remember. it was nice to remember what he liked. it was nice to remember him.

i wasn't sure what to do this morning. i felt depressed. i felt stuck. i felt helpless. i wanted to remember, but i didn't know what to do. did it matter? what was the point? ann told me to do what i wanted to do and not think so much about it. i was glad she said that. i put on all eric's old clothes, his favourite guess t-shirt, his old khaki pants (which are now my favourite), his necklace and his leather jacket. i wanted to wear his old UHS t-shirt, but i couldn't find it. we went to mcdonalds to have a hashbrown for breakfast. eric adored mcdonald hashbrowns. we used to eat them by the dozen when we were kids. on a saturday morning, we'd ask our mom to go out and by us like 12 hashbrowns and then we'd gobble them up when we got home. then we went to mcbc. we were hoping to meet up with jon & christine for lunch.

after mcbc, we went to run errands. ann called jon while we were driving and asked if he was free for lunch. he was free, he made himself free... because he remembered. i was surprised. i was moved. i was touched. i couldn't believe he remembered. i thought no one did. almost immediately afterwards, i started tearing up. emotions overwhelmed me. i suddenly felt deep pain and anguish. i missed my dear brother. tears started rolling down my face. i parked the car. more emotions. feelings of regret. feelings of anger. feelings of pain. feelings of mourning. feelings of grief. eric was too young. i still don't understand why he had to go so soon. i wish he was still here with me, with us. if he only knew how loved he was. if he only knew how much he mattered. i wish i told him more. i regret not saying it more.

eric, if you were still here today, i would tell you how much i love you. i would say it all the time so you'd never forget. i'd tell you how much you mean to me and what a difference you've made in my life. i'd tell you that i always looked up to you and respected the person you were. i'd tell you that i believed in you. i'd tell you that you were a really precious person and that you were valued beyond words. i'd tell you that i was proud to have you as my brother. i'd tell you that i thought the world of you. i'd tell you everything. it kills me that i can't tell you these things face-to-face. it kills me that you never knew all of this. i really wish you did. eric, something you've taught me to do after you passed away was how important it is to tell the people that you love, that you love them. because you don't know how much time you have. one day they'll be in your life, the next day, they might be gone and it'll be too late. i don't want to regret anymore. i tell ann everyday that i love her. multiple times. all the time. i want her to know what she means to me. i wish i could express it to her better. words are never enough.

i cried a lot in the car. ann was so supportive, comforting and understanding. i'm so thankful to have her in my life. i don't know what i'd do without her. thank you ann for everything. your actions speak volumes to me. you are the best, truly, you are.

after we ran our errands, we went home and waited for jon to call to go for lunch. we met at swiss chalet. eric loved swiss chalet. we used to go to swiss chalet after tennis lessons every saturday. it was tradition. we loved it. i think eric loved eating chicken pot pies, but i can't remember for sure. i just knew he liked swiss chalet. so off we went. jon arrived and we ordered. when the waiter dropped off our drinks, i forgot that i should have ordered iced tea. eric loved iced tea. jon had ordered it. i asked for my standard water with no ice. jon smiled at me. i looked at jon and ann and said, i have to get iced tea! so we talked and talked. we shared memories about eric. i liked that. it's been a long time since i've talked with anyone about eric (aside from my family). it was nice to talk, but at the same time, it was hard. i think there's always a part of you that hurts when you remember... it's always bittersweet. always. but it was really nice to hear new memories of eric that i didn't have; memories that jon shared with eric. it was nice to hear what other things eric liked to do and what he liked in general. i added more to my list. i appreciated jon being open to me and sharing. thank you jon. it meant the world to me to have the opportunity to share with you today.

i'll be having dinner with my parents soon. we're going to go to ichiban, one of eric's favourite restaurants. i'm glad we can do that. i want to do other things to remember eric today, like watch beauty and the beast or do other things. i also want to have a picture of eric in the house. i don't want to forget. i don't want to. i can't.

eric, i wish you were here. i wish you could have met ann. i'm sure you guys would have been great friends. you always thought everyone could just "get on with life" if you weren't here. you were so wrong. i miss you tremendously and wish i could see you, hear you, laugh with you, cry with you... i wish i could just be your brother again. i love you dearly.

love, your brother,

leo