“Minä eilistä en tahdo muistella,
enkä huomistakaan murehdi.
Uni tulla saa, uni vihdoin tulla saa,
tuokoon veljensä uni mukanaan.”
Mokoma – Uni tulla saa

558. That many days I’ve lived without seeing my brother or speaking with him. That many days I’ve been longing and wondering – what happened in November 2016? Time passes so quickly and it feels unbelievable that it’s almost a year since we sprinkled my brother’s ashes to the graveyard. In november it’ll be two years since my brother commited a suicide and left this world.

I’ll always remember the day when the polices came to my door to tell that my brother was found dead. I was the first one to know. At that moment I felt like the grief will drown me, it swarmed so huge and devastating on me that I felt like I’ll die. However I got help and I was able to deal with the greaf, face and accept the fact that my brother’s dead.

At my home I have a framed, black and white picture of my brother. On that picture I’ve attached a mindribbon to remind that my brother is important though he’s no longer here. One day I paused to take a better look of the picture. I was looking at my brother, the face, expression and eyes. Though I recognized my brother in the picture I felt like it wasn’t my brother in the picture. The person felt distant.

For a while now the death of my brother has felt distant. Though I’ve been often talking about my brother and project related to him it feels like I’m talking of stranger. When I visit my brothers grave it feel as if I was visiting a stranger. Feels like I no longer know my brother. I’ve been ashamed, to some extent even blamed myself how little I think of my brother. I’ve been focusing on myself and the people around me, planning my future. Many days, even weeks might have passed without me giving a single thought for my brother.

On the other hand I notice that though I’ve proceeded a lot in my grieving process there’s still part of me broken. Maybe it’s some sort of self-preservation that I don’t think of my brother. Because the moment I start to think, the reality strikes, the pain and longing comes when I realize that I’ve lost my brother and I’ll never see him again. In the end it’s impossible to deal with all of the grief at once. You have to break it into pieces, take small steps forward. I just have to learn to live with the grief and at somepoint it will transform into love.

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” – Vicki Harrisson.

With love, Anu-Maarit