September 3, 2011

I went to my first funeral that March. I was only sixteen, and she was our ninety year old neighbor. Death was not an easy subject for me, just because I had very little experience with it. Three of my five grandparents and an uncle had passed before I even turned six. I went to my second funeral in September…

Long nights. Randomness. Deep discussions. My best friend. My mentor. Those are the only ways I can describe my brother, Logan. I mean, at least that I can remember. I’m purposely omitting our arguments and fights, ’cause I do what I want. Logan taught me how to make music. He bought me my first ukulele the year before, and the following Christmas he bought me my guitar. I’m only now realizing just how much he loved me. He was a very special kind of person, and it took losing him for me to realize that. I’ve started this post at least ten times in the past three years, but I’m doing it now, like a Bandaid.


I remember how his room sat empty, with his clothes still on the floor, his computer still on his nightstand, and his bed still a mess. But it didn’t stay that way for long. We made the decision, as a family, to clean up his things, and begin the process of moving on. While some may view this as a burden, I chose to view it as a blessing. We didn’t hold back. Logan introduced me to the band Noah and the Whale, who have a song called L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N. Basically, life goes on. We couldn’t sit around wallowing in our sadness, we had to learn how to heal ourselves.

I no longer feel the need to go into detail about the day he died. I will say just two things. The first, I don’t remember a single thing we talked about that day, not one thing. I’m not sure if this is a blessing or not, but it still makes me very sad. And the second, I was so fortunate to have the Skinners with me when I got the phone call from my mom. Bradlee was my drama teacher, and both him and his wife knew and taught Logan, so they were able to comfort me at a time when I had no one else.

I miss him every day, but knowing him, loving him, and losing him, all shaped me as a person. Today marks three years. I lost my brother that day. But I also lost my best friend, and the only person who I could be myself around. Having him gone forced me to change as a person, and come out of my shell. I miss him every day. So so me a favor, when you get done reading this, go hug your mother / father / brother / sister / significant other / child / friend and tell them that you love them.

Stay classy.