Loved by many, forgotten by none.

I normally go GHOST 2 days out of the year, EVERY YEAR; May 4 and October 26. 

I’ll post my usual tributes on Facebook or Instagram and then check TF out. 

Today is my brother’s birthday…

This day always hits me hard no matter how I prepare for it but this wouldn’t sit right with me if I disappeared within myself today, not after everything…

My brother died on May 4, 2009 (we think). 

It was a Monday, I was rushing (late as usual) to work right after dropping off my children at daycare and my mom called. 

I declined the call (the amount of guilt this action alone has caused me over the years 😢) thinking I’ll catch up with her later. 

She called again… I answered. 

My mother is THE STRONGEST person I know and I’m not being biased just trust me on this, I wasn’t expecting what came next. 

The sounds that emanated through my phone could only be described as a wounded animal but it was my mommy on the other end. 

She was wailing 😭. 

I couldn’t even remember ever seeing her shed a tear before in my life but I felt her pain through the guttural sounds coming out of my Blackberry.  

She had just discovered the lifeless body of her youngest child, her son and my little brother Shane. 

My thoughts… 

• It wasn’t even 9am yet. 
• I hadn’t had my coffee ☕️ or checked my email yet. 
• I had a million and 1 things on my to do list
• My manager is definitely not going to be happy about this. 

My mom was on the phone and needed me but all I could think about was how this was making my already rough Monday morning even more inconvenient.

Today is the first time I admitted that to anyone. 

My brother and I had a very turbulent relationship but he was still my little brother. 

We had a saying (well he did) no one was allowed to FUCK with me, except for him of course and believe me – HE DID but I knew he loved me, it just kind of sucks that I never truly knew this until after he was gone. 

Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed 

Anyhow… I didn’t handle that conversation well but I was just about to enter the office, I needed to get myself put back together and figure out how to explain to my boss that I was leaving even though I just got there. 

Read that again… yes despite the situation I still felt as if I needed to compose myself and not let anyone see me TRULY SEE ME, because it wouldn’t be professional enough. 

I’m a black woman in an office environment – I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE PROFESSIONAL. 

No excuses. 

That’s a subject for a whole other post. 

Not today. 

I’m walking from my personal VIP parking spot then enter the building while maintaining my composure, start heading up the stairs and attempting to come up with some valid excuses to give my boss so I can leave to attend to Shane’s newest situation. 

That’s when it hit me – my mom was actually screaming “He’s Dead, Shane’s dead” on the phone this wasn’t another escapade or shenanigan of his that we could just write ✍🏾 a check to fix. 

Shane was GONE. WTF!!

I suddenly felt cold 🥶, like I’m talking  subterranean levels of freezing COLD 🥶 plus I could hear screaming and wailing sounds again, I remember thinking when did my mom get here as my coworker starts yelling asking me what’s wrong right before I collapsed. 

The sounds were actually coming from me… 

When I came too, I was seated at my desk surrounded by very concerned coworkers. 

I felt embarrassed.😞 

I felt needy. 

I felt weak. 

That’s when the mask went on and my shields went 🆙. 

I went into MS. FIX IT Mode. 

I remember a coworker driving my car and bringing me to my mother’s house, I remember a couple other coworkers following us in a convoy from Richmond Hill to Malton. 

I don’t know if I ever said thank you to any of them for that but it was the only time I felt liked or maybe even loved at that place while I was employed there. 

It made me feel human unlike the overworked, underpaid and often taken advantage of abused contract employee that I really was. 

I arrive on the scene, already made some and still making necessary calls. 

Took over with the officials (coroner, police, paramedics), asked and answered questions but slipped for a minute when I saw them lifting a stretcher with an oblong shaped black bag on it. 

My mind said DON’T do it but I did, I asked to see him. They wouldn’t let me. 

Divine intervention maybe but I felt I had the right to see him and was letting them know just how I felt. 

I saw my mom’s face. 

I put the mask back on, mommy needs me. 

I’ll deal with them later. 

Honestly. The mask stayed on for awhile after that. 

What followed was 3 days of funeral planning and entertaining where I had to be the hostess with mostest. 

It really was all a blur for me. 

One night during the 3 days while heavily under the influence I remember calling a cousin that I barely knew in Connecticut and told him I needed him (see I barely knew him so it was cool to show him how I was really feeling and my secret would be safe). 

He drove all night long to be there for me and the death of a dude he never even met just because we’re family. 

Thank you 🙏🏾 

I haven’t seen or spoken to that cousin since not too long after my brother’s funeral but I’ll forever be grateful. 

See that’s the type of lifeline memories I hold on too when things start to go dark for me. 

People will always show you their true colours during two occasions, either when you’re…

 – Getting Married

 – Getting Buried

I had never planned a funeral before but I couldn’t let that stop me, I had to take care of this because it would only fall on my mom if I didn’t and I couldn’t let that happen, she lost her child 👶🏾 she’d already been through more than enough. 

Plus… here’s the thing guilt, that mofo named GUILT was playing tricks on me HEAVY during this time. 

Yes, I took care of the arrangements out of duty and dedication but guilt made me feel as if there would be no room for failure. 

Why did I feel so guilty… 

My brother was missing for two days and my mother kept calling me worried. 

It wasn’t the first or twentieth time he’d gone MIA before and I kept telling her to “not worry, he’ll turn up” but she knew something was wrong. 

I kept trying to invalidate her feelings. 

She discovered him herself, in his bed, cold to the touch on Monday morning. 

What if’s…. to say I’ve had a few. 

That’s why I feel guilty, what if… anyhow at this point I had to make sure I didn’t drop the ball again. 

Throughout the 3 day funeral planning bonanza, I kept hearing murmurs:

“Why they burying him so quick?”

“Where they get money from?”

“Only white people bury people in a hurry like this”

“They must be trying to hide something”

There was more but that last one was kind of right, I was trying to hide something – my own personal shame. 

I hoped to bury it right along with him. 

Viewing and funeral happen. 

I fumbled doing his eulogy but no worries, I saved it. 

Shane was laid to rest. 

I go back to work. 

I thought I was fine. 

People die all the time, right?

I start remembering our last conversation while trying to numb myself in monotonous tasks. 

I look up my brother’s account at my then place of employment. 

I read the notes from his previous interaction with the CSR and I laugh… I start HOWLING at my desk and if you knew my brother you know I was DYING from laughter. 

I started remembering our last conversation that stemmed from him trying to get a “hook up” on his phone bill from me then I remembered my last words to him. 

They weren’t nice. 

The guilt started again. 

I logged off and went home. I wasn’t ready. 

Since then I’ve tried various ways over the years to ignore, stuff or numb my feelings. 

I pretty much tried everything except actually talking about them. 

Until now, that’s why I couldn’t let another year go by with just another copy and paste in memoriam post for him. 

He deserves so much more. 

Losing my little brother is something that I’ll never get over, I know this now. I also know that’s ok. 

Some days it’ll hurt as if he just left us and other days it’ll hurt less but it’ll never go away. 

I choose to be grateful for ever having him in my life no matter the circumstances. 

I choose to honor him. #VulnerabilityIsASuperpower

˚°◦♡̬̩̃Shane♡̬̩̃◦°˚

Happy 32nd Birthday. You should still be here. 

Loved by Many, Forgotten by None.

“Grief is never something you get over. You don’t wake up one morning and say, ‘I’ve conquered that; now I’m moving on.’ It’s something that walks beside you every day. And if you can learn how to manage it and honour the person that you miss, you can take something that is incredibly sad and have some form of positivity.”

– Terri Irwin