Pain...and more pain...

My brother died. My brother died. My brother died.
No matter how many times I have said it in the past 3 days it doesn't get easier to say.

I have NEVER experienced as much pain as I am feeling right now in my life. I have given birth 3 times and this is a hundred times worse.

When my brother enlisted in the military the thought that he might die was there. When he was deployed first to Iraq and then again to Afghanistan the thought that he might die was there. But when he came home after a horrific helicopter accident and he had survived the thought had gone away. He was on home soil being taken care of by the army. No longer in danger of being shot by "the enemy". He was safe.

I was wrong. Not a year later he was in a head on collision. Again though, he survived, and the thought came quickly that he could die but again it went away. He was fine. A little broken but fine. He was healing.

So when the call came Friday evening...I was blindsided.
Found dead in his apartment. Gone. No warning. Nothing.

The shock has worn off but the crushing grief has set in. Not only am I dealing with the death of my only sibling but I have 3 daughters who have lost a special uncle who they thought of as a hero and talked of often. They made up stories about their soldier uncle and the good things he did for his country. Not only am I dealing with that but I am dealing with my mother. Who is grieving her child, yes, but is also disabled. My mother is crazy. No, that is not her disability, that is just her personality. She raises my stress level on a normal day to too high. So imagine how high my stress level is now.

I am trying to plan his services and I have no idea what I am doing. My mother doesn't want a "Christian" service because she is under the impression that he was a Buddhist. Whatever. I am trying to honor her wishes but still make it a memorable service. My father and I both would like scriptures and prayers but again my mother is against these things. Sigh.

My mother's side of the family seems to have forgotten that I lost my brother because they want me at my mother's beck and call. They don't seem to remember that I am also grieving. Again I know it is different. She lost a child and I lost a brother. If I lost one of my daughters I would be devastated but you know what? I am devastated now.
I am not a person who has ever cried alot in my life and right now I can't get through 2 hours without breaking into tears. Sometimes they are racking sobs and others like now they are silent tears (that I think actually hurt more). This is truly better than it was. I am finding the strength to get through this and I know it will take a long time and that the tears will be close to the surface for awhile.

My brother and I had a tumultuous relationship as kids. We fought alot but as we grew older we had become very close. I talked (texted) with him at least once a week and we were planning a family vacation to DisneyWorld together. Unfortunately this month had been a busy one for both of us and I hadn't actually spoken to him since Christmas. I am so angry with myself for not picking up the phone and taking the time. I wish that I had jumped in my van at Christmas time and driven down to Texas and spent that time with my whole family.

I know this was convoluted and rambling but it was thoughts I needed to get out. Hopefully I can actually write a post about how great my brother was. Not yet though. Even though he was.

I love you Matt and I will miss you for the rest of my life.

Sgt Matthew N. Miller - Nov 7, 1976 - Jan 28, 2011