Although it didn’t take me long to realize that the “freedoms” of adulthood are just good marketing for the endless responsibilities that marriage, parenthood, and business ownership entail, most of the time I’m glad I traded the true freedom of my youth to take on the life that suits me.
But of course, there are moments like this morning, when I lay in tear soaked sheets, with the sky pressing down on my rib cage, and longed to return to that uncomplicated youth. For me, that “time” is marked as clearly as the line defining Mountain Standard Time, though it is a date: pre-August 27, 2004, the day my youngest brother, Howard, died.
In the nine years since, I’ve spoken marriage vows under the Big Sky, laid a treasured grandpa to rest, given birth to two fascinating children, stood on top of Little Chief and wondered how the heck I would get down, frosted birthday cakes and chilled champagne to honor those I love who live still, experienced the magic that I think comes only with old friends, a blazing fire, and a guitar, and endured a pregnancy wherein every day I wondered if my baby had suffered a brain hemorrhage, and if I had been too selfish in wanting to give Maggie Rose a sibling.
Enormous highs, black lows, indeed, in these nine years.
There was a time in the immediate whiteout following Howard’s death that I feared I would never feel deeply again. There was an even deeper fear on certain nights at 3am that I didn’t want to ever feel so alive again, that to insulate myself from future heartbreak was perhaps the path I should take. Howard’s death crystallized the knowledge for me that to revel in joy, you’ve got to wallow in grief, too, and in that realization I remembered the only thing I retained from 7th grade science class: every action in nature has an equal and opposite reaction.
I think I’m reflecting on these concepts not only because August 27th is an emotional date for me, but because I have dear friends who are new to the rage and terror of grief, and I long to rescue them. Of course I cannot, and I know that to be able to feel those highs and lows again, a griever must get herself back on the so called path. Friends will offer wine, and prose, and at times, a much needed glimpse at a map, but there is no substitution for the hard work of grieving.
It is worth it, though, and as I look back on the fuzzy years after Howard’s death, years that became clearer with each emotional risk I took — a new boyfriend, a move, a breakup, a career, a husband, another move, children — I will stand by the advice my mother once offered to me: go on. It is worth it. And though each anniversary will forever torture me with unanswered questions like the temperament of the wife Howard would have chosen, and the colors of his children’s eyes, I try each year to stop the tears and also acknowledge to myself new risks I have taken, and the new joys I have found.
I know that Howard would be proud that I’ve learned to look potential heartbreak in the eye while going on. To those whose hearts are broken, I urge you to be brave, and to take comfort in the idea that grief this debilitating can lead you to its opposite in joy, if only you’ll keep walking.
2013. Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.
August 27, 2013 at 11:44 am
Your beautiful, honest and eloquent words give me hope this morning. You and your family are in my warmest thoughts today. And so is Howard. What a joyful legacy is his.
September 3, 2013 at 1:15 pm
Warmest thoughts back to you and yours, my dear friend. xo
August 27, 2013 at 12:17 pm
I love you, Courtney! Could not be more true, walking on can lead to many joys. Thinking of Howard and your amazing family.
September 3, 2013 at 1:15 pm
I’m glad we’re hiking buddies in more ways than one, even if that’s a bit macabre. Love you, LJ!
August 27, 2013 at 3:10 pm
Beautiful & meaningful words, Courtney. Sending you and your family much love today and always. xoxoxo
September 3, 2013 at 1:14 pm
Thank you so much, Susan. Squeeze those granddaughters, they are beautiful!
August 27, 2013 at 4:32 pm
Howard left quite a legacy in such a short span, and now the legacy lives on through the heart of a new joy. If little Howard has the joyful mind, heart and soul that his namesake had, the world is already a better place. Now, my question is, “Will he have the same BIG feet?” Love you all!!!
September 3, 2013 at 1:14 pm
Ha ha, Maggie certainly does! Thanks for the kind words, and the laugh.
August 27, 2013 at 8:19 pm
Love to all on this day… I often wonder why
September 3, 2013 at 1:14 pm
Thanks for reading, Patrice. I suppose there is no why.
August 28, 2013 at 3:24 am
Oh how I love how you are able to put your feelings of grief on paper and shared with us. The world is never the same after a loss you have endured but your mom is so right-GO on …it is worth it. I needed to hear those words today. I am thankful you shared your thoughts with the writing voice that I so remember. After all of these years, I am still so fortunate to have had you in my life. You made many of my darker days much brighter. If that lab could only talk! Love you, Courtney!
September 3, 2013 at 1:13 pm
You are a bright and shining star, Mrs. W. Miss you so!
August 28, 2013 at 6:35 am
Thinking of you all today, Courtney!!
September 3, 2013 at 1:13 pm
Miss you, Wanda!
August 28, 2013 at 4:19 pm
I saw this article on a friend’s page and had no idea at first that it was you who had written it. After a few minutes it dawned on me who it was. My heart goes out to you and your family on such a difficult day. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your grief. I know your words and message of hope and courage will inspire others who are facing heartbreak. I hope you are well.
Summer
September 3, 2013 at 1:13 pm
Summer, it’s so great to hear from you. Thanks so much for the kind words.
August 28, 2013 at 4:31 pm
Courtney, You have such a wonderful way with words. I could never even come close. Blessings to you and your entire family on this difficult day. I too also needed your Moms words today, Go on. Thank you for sharing them, as sometimes it can be so difficult.
September 3, 2013 at 1:13 pm
Thanks so much for reading.
September 11, 2013 at 7:40 am
[…] my dear friend recently wrote about grief, as she marked the ninth anniversary of her youngest brother’s tragic death. She wrote about […]