Sing You Home.

I don't know how to deal with this season. The assumption from everyone, particularly those who don't know my history, and that segment is getting larger, as it is two year now since my little brother died, is that is his a joyful season. Only it's really not, it's a season of grieving.

Grieving is the strangest emotion, because it can coexist silently with the rest of my life for months. I notice if I'm particularly sad, or particularly happy or angry, but grief just steals into the background and I don't notice until I'm ready to beat my head off of walls in desperation and fury. Because no, grief doesn't just mean tears. At least not for me. I get angry.

This would be because my default emotion whenever I don't agree with the way something is going is to get mad. As I am not the high queen of the world and things often do not follow my grand plan, I am mad frequently. Which means I don't really need more anger in my life. Particularly here- it neither helps nor honours the person I'm grieving for if I am ready to attack the world at any moment.

Only I don't know how to not be angry. It's such a fast reaction to get into, and it's so much safer than lying myself open to the rest of the world so they can trample on me. All well-meaningly, of course.

This month will be an exercise in trying to cool down. So far I've primarily failed at that, but today this song helped. And it's lovely, even if you don't have grief/anger problems.

Here, have some internet!

There are lovely links which you should follow. ^_^

How trustworthy is television?

An INSIDE LOOK AT THE WORKINGS OF A RECORDING STUDIO. *fangirls*

And this is the photo-blog of a lovely, talented girl who is undergoing treatment for cancer. You should all follow her. *nods* And comment on the pictures, because they're wonderful.

"Just Get Me Through December"

My little brother died yesterday. He was four years old, and too much joy to be contained. 

And I just don't know anything. The world is different, that's for sure. Maybe I've grow up a little more, maybe I'm still in shock and denial, but I certainly don't look at life in the same way. Life- both the living of it and the fact of morality, has taken on a different aspect. 

Because my little brother is no longer here, and everything reminds me of him in some way. He loves blue, and kinder eggs, and cars, and the whole wild world. He gives his full attention to whatever he is doing, oh my little brother. 

No, I'm not using the present tense by accident. I believe- no, I don't believe, I know, that he's in a better place. He has no more pain, no more uncertainty, no more tears. He's free. And for him, we'll see him tomorrow. We just have a longer tomorrow to get through than he does. 

His death was peaceful, and even the days and hours before were free of stress for him. I have a mental snapshot from the day before, which encapsulates the hospital time for me. Gid was sleeping, and had been all day, and I was just watching him from across the room. Snow was falling. There was only one small light on in the room, so it was getting darker as night fell. A fan caused the curtains to brush against each other, and the IV pump made small popping noises every couple of seconds. Daddy was playing acoustic guitar, and Mommy and Fraulein and I listened to him and to Gid breathing. It was an incredible span of time. There was so much sorrow and so much joy, somehow held side by side. 

The strange thing is that I really still can't take it in. My mind keeps trying to segment my memory, saying that that wasn't Gid, my little brother is still somewhere around here, and I'm going to poke my head around a corner and see him sleeping. It's so strange. I'll probably be trying to fit my head around it for quite some time. Years, most likely. 

Anyhow, that's my big news. And if you thought my sense of humour was dark and twisted before, you might want to avoid me from now on. 

Note: I've been trying to write this for a little while. Please ignore the continuity error. 

"Come on, come on, put your hand into the fire. Explain, explain..."

Due to my rather sad incoherence lately, which makes me cringe to think of, I shall try very hard to make this post contain something resembling logic. "Try" being the operative word, I am afraid. 

I commence!

I am currently wearing four shirts. Yes. Four (4). This is due to the fact that people keep giving me them. First of all, Fraulein gave me two lovely ones yesterday, designed to be layered. Therefore I decided to wear them today along with the charming brown pants Gid picked out for me. Mommy said he first found a short, printed bright green housecoat. She steered him away from that, whereupon he gravitated to a low cut pink and white striped shirt. (He is four, after all). Mommy disentangled him from that one, where he found these pants. Which are a signal success, actually. (They are soft and have cool buttons, hence his choice of them.) So I was wearing my new outfit today, when I was given a free t-shirt to wear to the Relay for Life. As it wasn't hot out, I just put the shirt on over top of my current wardrobe. One ill-fitting t-shirt over regular clothes= One volunteer uniform. Fraulein and I, in appropriate volunteer garb, were helping out with children's activities. This was made extra interesting by the fact that we were working with groups of mixed ages and sexes. I tell you, anyone who says that there is no significant difference between girls and boys is seriously deluded. Possibly on drugs. Fraulein and I, used to working with little girls, unwisely let one of the boys be "Simon" in Simon Says. As our first game. The first thing the little dervish said? 

"Simon says Armpit Fart!"

Right. Um, some people don't know how to do that. So why don't you try another one? He ponder this, and then comes up with a different command. 

"Simon says run up the ramp and come back and hit me in the face!"

Takes "cruin' for a bruisin'" to a new level, eh? By the way, I'm not honouring the child with the appellation "dervish" based solely on the Simon Says incident. There were other events. With witnesses. Anyhow, after our volunteer time was nearly over Fraulein and I were each given another t-shirt. It was even less hot then. Hence the four shirts as current outfit components. (I know I'm extra riveting today. Hush. I'm working on re-growing coherence and logic neurons.)

The birthday yesterday was lovely. Since the Relay was today, and as a result the family would be occupied most of my actual birthday day, we celebrated yesterday. We had a formal dress-up dinner. Slonner was demonstrating the twirling action of her skirt before the dinner. Mark my words, if that girl ever takes ballroom dancing she will devastate anyone within range. Totally maul the opposition, in truth. The meal was delicious, and the company was well dressed and charming. Then we opened gifts, some of which I have already mentioned. I should mention another one at this point simply because it is so very noteworthy. My parents, whom I rise up and call blessed, said that they would pay the difference in my saving and the computer I had picked out. Blessed, I tell you. 

Then we played Duck Duck Goose, as is tradition. And this time we ALL played, which was fun. There was also a scavenger hunt and musical chairs, where I, forgetting I was wearing weapons on my feet, trod rather heavily on Daddy's foot. After a particularly hotly contested game of musical chairs Daddy was in fact forced to sit out and be the judge of the scavenger hunt. Which my team lost, even though the other team had a math CORRECTION book, instead of math book. But since I am a just and merciful birthday girl, and do not misuse my awesome power, I did not raise a big fuss about this blatant deception on the part of my nefarious siblings. Also no one was listening. 

Then Frualein and I watched Stardust in the evening. All in all, a marvelous celebration. Fraulein and I have had rather a lot of movie-watching incidents lately. I'm not going to go back and count them, since I'm lazy, but I'm pretty sure it's a lot. We also watched a couple of episodes of Avatar this morning. That was amusing, since she has been rather politely and patiently tolerant of my delight in the show in the past. So today I sat down and said, "we're going to watch the first episode. The beginning of it, at least. We can stop in eight minutes or so." She is silent (implies consent! See, I did learn something from my first aid course!) and the watching commences. We get through the introduction and one half scene. She pipes up "I don't think we're going to be able to stop this!" *grins* NO, this is not gloating. It's just happiness. Right. Happiness. 

Reposted from my family's blog

My dad wrote the following. Stevie is my mom. That's pretty much all you need to know.

13-April.......It's been one year......

Gideon is sleeping while I write this. He has a bit of a rattle in his lungs, almost a snore. He is getting a good long sleep. It is snowing outside the Hospital window. A Spring snowfall with big flakes that float down without a wind. One year ago Gideon got down off my lap as we went to breakfast. He had been sitting on my knee while I checked my email. As my hand passed over his tummy I felt something very hard just poking out from under his ribcage. Gideon had been having trouble getting over a late Winter flu and so his breathing was a bit "rattley". Stevie had already booked an appointment with our Family Dr. but we decided to go early and wait for the next available opening. The Dr. ordered an X-Ray. Stevie returned to the Dr late in the afternoon to hear the results of the Chest and Abdominal X-Ray. I was working in the studio mixing the song "I Feel So Happy".

Our world changed in one moment.

We have learned the reality of "the new normal". "Normal" changes daily, sometimes hourly, sometimes in a moment (relapse). We are learning to live "in the moment" and trying not to worry about what might happen.

We are learning that God is sovereign, He is Creator, we are created, he is Infinite, we are finite. I do not pretend to know the mind of God. I do understand this. His covenant with His people continues to be kept. He does not change, neither does He falter. In His mercy He saves and protects His own. He has no equal, and He has no opposite, His purpose cannot be thwarted. I am His child.

We have been treated to new friendships. People of compassion, and mercy. People whose careers demand high academic achievement with almost unlimited patience and compassion under, what is sometimes, a crushing emotional burden. I truly wonder how they do it. Friends from "before" have shown why they are friends. We are privileged to count these truly unique and special people as friends. Thank you all.

We do not know what the future holds, but we know who holds the future.

Thank you for sharing this year with us. "A burden shared is a burden halved. A joy shared is a joy doubled"

Not the news we were looking for

My little brother Gid has cancer. He was diagnosed in April, and since then I've almost gotten used to it.

Almost.

Now today he went in for an assessment, (to see if he would need surgery), and they found something new. It's growing, though really nothing should be growing, he's been on chemo for so long, and it's growing fast, comparatively speaking. What it boils down to is that this thing is a different strain. The older strain is reacting well to treatment, the assessment showed it shrinking, but this is new. The Oncologists are "concerned", (on a list of things you don't want your medical provider to say, that has to be up there.) Gid is going in for surgery as soon as they can find a slot for a lung surgery. However, to put things in perspective; when he was fist diagnosed his lungs were so full that the x-ray slides showed white. He was on oxygen in normal life. Now they could take out a full lobe of his lungs and he'd never miss it.

Man, it's hard.

He's so ALIVE, and now this. I just haven't looked at the possibility that he might die for the past 9 months or so, (put it away, we aren't acknowledging that,) and now it's back in my face.

It's funny/interesting/awful reacting to cancer. Because it is such a long treatment program, you really can not postpone your life until "everything is all right." With almost every other type of injury, you can sit by the bedside, drop everything, put your life on hold. until it's resolved. With something that has a 18 month treatment schedule, you can't. And that doesn't even include the assessments after treatment. You have to go on living normally. It goes against human nature. No, that's not entirely true. There are circumstances when the patient is only in treatment for a month or so, and then they stop. When the disease is at one or the other ends of the spectrum. Since Gid presented with so much cancer in April, he will (please God) have a very long treatment plan. You have to go on living all the while.

At the same time, you can't make any long range plans, because things change so fast. Case in point: See above. It makes me very glad that I didn't apply for any colleges over Christmas. I almost did, but in talking it over with my Dad, I realized that I was looking at them for the wrong reasons. Incidentally, I think Lamd, who is looking at English Lit, is also looking at them for the wrong reasons. I almost talked him out of it today.

me: Why do you want to do this?
What will do the most for you?
Could you get that some other way?
Why spend the money? (Cause he doesn't have to count the cost at all.)
Do you want the jobs that piece of paper will allow you?

Good times, harassing Lamd. Anyways, I probably didn't convince him at all, but I did convince myslef not to going something solely for the sake of "doing something." Hey, going to Europe is "doing something", and it costs a whole lot less! At any rate, I have applied for nothing, and now come April I have no commitments. I don't know, the school would understand, I think, if I dropped classes, and headed home to help out sooner. I just don't know.

Still;

God Knows.

This is my Mom

My parents are amazing. My little brother is possibly going in for lung surgery on Wednesday, and my mother sent me this letter about it.

I'm feeling relaxed about the upcoming week (strange, huh) but it's already planned, we just don't know the plan yet. I'll try to remain childlike, except not to say, "Are we there yet? How long till we get there?!!" Instead, I'll just trust our Father to know the plan and go along with whatever He says is best. It does make for sketchy plans, but we'll just try to be "max flex".

That is my parents. They have so much faith, I am just in awe. I love them very much.

They've set the bar quite high.