A bit of a mess.

So, here's the thing. I've been feeling like a bit of a mess lately. I'm not sure exactly why. But here are some of the thoughts that have been bumping around in my head. And I thought that maybe if I wrote them down I might be a little less of a mess and more me. And that would be nice. So here goes...

My brother is dead. You know this. I know this. And we still don't know why. And it still seems so unbelievable that I forget sometimes. And then I have to remember again and it sucks. And it has been just long enough that I miss him. Not because he is dead, but the kind of missing you feel when you haven't seen someone you love in just long enough that you feel it in your everyday. You hear an Erasure song or see someone in a Buick or sit down to Sunday dinner. And you feel it. The person that was all those familiar things is not there. It is so tangible, this missing, that I almost pick up the phone. I need to hear him. But I can't. And all that is left is the missing. An ache in that deep down place that has been hollowed out just for him. I push it as far away as I can. But sometimes it just doesn't work. And it all comes bubbling up to the surface. Big, heavy tears that take my breath away. And it makes me wonder and think and wish and replay until my head hurts. These times are less often than they were in the beginning, he is already starting to fade. Little by little. Death is such a confusing thing, this mix of emotions it brings. No wonder I'm a mess.

OK, on to other things. I got an email from BYU. They want me to come back to Provo and teach again this Fall. I want to desperately. But I can't. Jeff was called in to the bishopric in May. It is a good thing. Really good for him. He is kind and compassionate and all the things he needs to be for this calling. But it means he is gone one night and I am gone one night in Salt Lake and two more nights just won't work. So, I said no. With a little sigh of regret. But at least it wasn't a big sigh, right?

I will save the big sigh for this. My kids are half way through their summer vacation. Aaagh! A week and a half more and I will have two boys that will be gone all day. I repeat, ALL day. I will miss them and our lazy summer days together. And Owen's anxiety is already mounting. Picking out a lunch box started him wondering and worrying about lunch. Where will he sit, who will he sit with, what will he eat. And his lunch box HAD to match his black and red checkered backpack with the main colors being either black or red, but preferably both. For real? He settled on a transformers one with just enough red to be acceptable. Barely. And if lunch wasn't reason enough to worry, he is absolutely sure that Jeffrey will forget to wait for him after school. He wants to go and practice, to set up a designated spot and a pre-determined punishment for Jeffrey should he indeed forget to wait. This kid might just drive us all crazy. But at the same time, I am going to miss him. Miss him being in kindergarten and coming home for lunch and running errands and playing with the littles. My O is growing up and that makes me a bit blue. In a good way, but blue nonetheless.

And since we are on the topic of being blue, I will add one more reason to the list. Brooks did not pass his hearing test. He failed it before he got tubes. The Dr. said it was because of all the fluid. I cried. It was the day after Michael died and I sat there at the ENT and cried for my brother and my baby and Jeffrey and myself all at once. He thought I was crazy. He assured me it would be fine, the tubes would make it all better. They did another hearing test after. He had an ear infection with the tubes in and failed again. Then another test 3 weeks later. Failed. They scheduled him for an ABR at the hospital. They sedated him and taped electrodes to his head to see if the sound waves traveled to his brain. Some did, some didn't. We sat and watched. She explained it all to us afterwards. He has a cognitive loss, not bone or nerve as far as she could tell. Just fluid that isn't allowing the sound to get through. It's what they said about Jeffrey at first too. Definitely cognitive. And then maybe some bone damage later on. And last year some nerve damage too. His ear drum ruptured 3 weeks ago. It leaked fluid for almost 2 weeks. He has to go in for his 3rd set of tubes in August. I feel so bad for these boys of mine, so helpless. And then I feel guilty because I know it could be worse, that so many people go through things with their children that are worse. But I still wish I could take it away from them.

But I  can't. I can't change any of it. I cannot bring my brother back or be gone every night or keep Owen in kindergarten or make it so Brooks and Jeffrey can hear. And I am not sure that I would if I could. I know that there is a reason behind all of it. Michael is probably better in heaven than he could be here and BYU will always be there and Owen has to grow up and Jeffrey and Brooks will learn to be full of empathy and understanding because of this trial. I know all of this. But sometimes all of it together makes my brain feel a little mushy.