Aftermath

I haven't been able to write about what I have been feeling. It is just under the surface and bubbling. It won't let go but it won't let me express it.

Some of it appears to be sadness. That makes sense. I miss my brother. I miss the time that I had with him. I miss talking to him. I miss being with him.

Some of it is hopelessness. There is a sense in me that it won't get any better. That the hole in my soul will never heal, never get smaller, never loosen its grip on me.

Part of it is joy. A true sense that I had a relationship with my brother that is rare and oh, so special. He was an individual, a one of a kind, a man with a heart and a head, a man with demons that I knew and that he helped me embrace. There is a great deal of joy that I embrace that relationship.

Part of it is anger. A real anger that there is such a thing as death. A real, honest, unbelievable anger that Dan is not coming back. Some of that anger is at myself for not doing or saying lots of things to and for Dan.

All of it makes for a crushing grief. A mixed bag of feelings and issues that I think I understand but truly don't.

The best explanation, the best way to see what it is that I feel is to look at the picture of Bill at the campfire circle at Camp Nelson.

We were trying to get snow covered wood to burn and, of course, it smoked a lot. But we all just stood our ground when it came our way. We stood and stared into the fire and kept our thoughts to ourselves

I asked Bill if the planning of the Farewell just made the hurting start all over again for him. It did.

I know he is feeling the same internal volcano that I am feeling now.

I miss my brother.