It’s always the little things

When someone really close to you dies it’s always the little things that you forget first.

In the months following Terry’s death I forgot what his voice sounded like. Because his voice was so second nature to me that I’d never had to think what it actually sounded like. I spent days on end playing his answering machine message over and over, just trying to remember.

I forgot how really close we were. I spent the days following his funeral kicking myself that I didn’t call him more, or spend more time with him. It never feels like you did enough when all of a sudden they’re gone and you realize you will never get the chance to talk to or see them again.

I will always remember the big things. The one’s that are easy to remember because they made him the man that he was.

Terry was a tall man with brown hair and brown eyes. He was in to sports and music, clubbing and having fun. He was always training for a triathlon here or there. He loved his food, his cars, his woman and drink. He was an incredibly loyal and protective brother.

As time goes on you begin to remember things that have long since been forgotten. Silly things, that were special only to him and I.

They come at moments when you least expect them. A long time ago it would have been a really painful memory, no matter how sweet. But now it put’s a smile on my face and a glow in my heart.

Something that come to mind.

Terry would never hand me my birthday presents. He would never wrap them either. He would always come in to my room late the night before and throw it on my bed, still in the plastic bag he got it from the store in. For a long time all he got me was Stephen King novel’s. Then it was Bon Jovi CD’s. I remember that the first time he did this (gulp) I was VERY young and it was a (gasp) cassette tape…Alvin and the Chipmonks (I did mention that I was very young right!?) It was a short and sweet affair, but as he left he would always say “Don’t say I don’t look after you kid” because he knew that he’d got me exactly what I wanted.

As time goes by I hope to share more of these bitter sweet memories I have with you. I like to think that one day, if I am not around, Jaxon will get to know his uncle Terry through this blog.

We were close. His voice has come back to me.

Today would be...

Terry's 34th birthday.

Those photo's

These are practically the only good photo's I have of my brother Terry. Well, maybe. These are the only one's I have framed and on display. I didn't think he'd want the naked beach photo's or the drunken staggering home photo's in frames!!!

This first one is of us at our childhood home in Melbourne in 1992. That makes me 15 years old and Terry 19 years old. Note that Bitsy is still in the picture! She lived for another 3 years after that photo. She was 18 years old when she had to be put to sleep after having continual heart attacks.

This second one was in 1996 at a cousin's 21st and her Dad's 50th. It was a barnyard party. This is how I like to remember Terry. He was tall and thin, athletic (triathlon's) and a good drinker. He ALWAYS had a smile on his face, a cheeky one. That night we got VERY drunk and cried together because Mum had just left Dad. He put me to bed and let me wear his jumper because I was cold. And then slept in the back of his car.

I really wish I had many more good photo's of Terry and I together. It is sad that we were so close but now that he is gone I have very few physical memories of us together. Learn from my mistake, take photo's with everyone you love. It's hard to think about but one day it might be all you have of them.

One of those days

There are days when you don't even think about it. There are days when it doesn't hurt. But then there are days like today when the pain wont go away and when you can't stop thinking about it.

On those days the tears come hard and fast. An invisible rope wraps itself around your neck and keeps you from breathing.

Your heart sinks because this wont change.

The worst thing about it is, that the ONE person you want to hold and tell them you love them, isn't here. And never ever will be again. It hurts to breath, and it hurts to be the one that got left behind.

This is one of those days.

Today I wish with every single particle of life in my body that my brother was still alive.

I want my phone to ring and for Terry to say "I'm out the front, come for a drive?" like he used to.

I wish that he could hear his nephew's laugh as he play's hide and go seek with his Daddy. Or see the sparkle in his eye when he discover's he can stand all by himself.

But none of this will ever happen, or happen again. There is nothing more painful in this world than losing a loved one. Nothing more painful than having your dreams torn from your heart forever.

(Photo: Terry and I with my first dog Bitsy. I'm scanning more photo's, because I want to share his memory with you)