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Ashes are Beautiful

As I sit reflecting over the last 4 years, I see a journey that only I could walk; one filled with many valleys, and just a few moments of rest in a sea of grief, confusion, and deconstruction. There are endless lessons I have learned the hard way because well, let’s face it…I am stubborn. Yet, in the wake of another year without my brother, time has reminded me to take account of all that I have learned, and be advised of what still lies ahead.

Writing and singing have always been the best methods of sharing my heart. Yet, interestingly enough, I have seldom done either over the last few years. Unpacking and working through grief has been both exhausting and annoying. I grew up in an environment where expressing emotions like pain, grief, and disappointment were met with the abrupt direction to either ignore, or put on a face that things were fine. This, mixed with a faith that suggested this honesty was me ‘lacking faith’ to believe God to answer, or that I needed to quickly move to the mindset that ‘God will work it out,’ caused me to swiftly move past my feelings; creating an unhealthy depiction of how a person needs to move through grief and disappointment.

Sifting through the ashes, I see the growth, change, and new mindsets which were developed. I read through my last two blog posts, and I see the raw emotions of anger, disappointment, and also hope. I am a much different person today than the woman who wrote those posts several years ago. Yet both dispositions of my state of mind are healthy examples of walking through the stages of grief. Time doesn’t erase the grief, but it does allow the opportunity for me to either wallow in the depths of my pain, or allow the moments where grief visits me to bring me further healing.

Approximately picture number 5 attempting to getting a good family photo

I cannot believe this marks 4 years since losing Alex. Four years since I heard his voice, four years since his humor forced me to never stay mad at him, 4 years since I had a brother as my best friend, 4 years since being a complete family, and the list goes on. I had always envisioned my brother and I making so many memories between travel, business adventures, and even getting a chance to be an aunty. One aspect of grief I didn’t anticipate, is that the ideas of what ‘could have been’ or the ‘things I wanted to do’ with Alex, often sting just as much as the memories of missing him do.

There is no day that ends where I do not have Alex on my mind. His memories are etched in my soul and are my ways of keeping him alive in my life. I find myself not talking about him much to others because I realize people don’t always know what to say, or get tired of hearing about grief. The thing that others fail to realize, is that I also am tired of Alex being dead. I just don’t have the opportunity to walk away from the conversation like others do. Death is final on this side of Heaven, and when we lose loved ones, we often spend a lifetime coping with the hopeful expectation that we will see them again. If you are gifted with the blessing of someone inviting you in to their grief over a loved one, know that you likely are someone special, seen as trustworthy of handling the heavy moments that might be a part of the conversation.


For those who have a faith in God, often this is where grief stretches you the most. For me, I wrestled with what I actually believe versus what I was taught to regurgitate my entire life. Of all the disappointments, my trust and faith in God was tested the most. What I found at the end of this battle, is that every moment of anger, asking God all my ‘whys,’ telling Him exactly how I feel with no churchy etiquette to add fluff in my prayers, and journeying through the deconstruction of my beliefs…..only further solidified and grew my faith in Jesus. I may not be the person to jump and be overtly expressive in a church service or in a crowd of people….but I will be the first one to listen, be there in a tough time, or pray for you when you need someone. Not to mention, I will always have good music on deck to brighten the day!

Our biggest rivalry

How does this all relate to Alex? Well a part of grief is recognizing that at some point, I needed to find a way to live again. I can only imagine that this is what Al would have wanted from me. In times where grief enveloped me, I was reminded that I can honor his memory in the way I live and make new memories. I gave up singing after Alex passed, and I found the strength to sing again this year. The first place I sang again was in the very place I last sang for his funeral. I travel frequently like him and I wanted to do together. I took a chance at a job promotion and got it. I have a softer heart to understanding what others are going through. I made new friends, tried new hobbies, got involved at church again, have grown as a leader, value family time more, I speak my mind, and so many more. I am living again. The struggles and valleys are never ending, but I see growth, purpose, and direction again. My ashes are beautiful, and I look forward to how God molds and shapes them in the future.

Shenanigans after dad and Al helped me move in my my dream apartment

Half A Decade

It took some deep soul searching to muster up the strength to write the annual post filled with new thoughts or lessons learned. Maybe it’s the fact that growing up there wasn’t much  room for emotion and heartbreak to enter a conversation. Or, that as I grow older, my bank for emotion towards grief and its long term effects is gradually getting lower by the year. Whatever the case, I find that reaching any matter of the heart requires digging through layers of callousness that developed over time. Yet, every year around this time, it’s always… and only….the thought of Al that softens this heart of stone. So here goes…

It baffles me that we are officially here. 5 years since my brother Al went home to be with the Lord. A half a decade of lessons and growth, failure and loss, and yet also perseverance and strength. It’s an odd state of being to be both sad and joyful. I’m learning that in order to understand deep joy, one must also understand great loss and sadness. How would you know what a mountaintop is if you never camped in a valley? These 5 years were full of valleys- tears, anger, frustration, and on occasion, some rest. For the most part, life has been a constant struggle between pressing on and enduring hardship. In the trenches it is difficult, but looking back I see the growth it brought. 

When I think of Al, I am reminded of all the silliness. We had inside jokes, memories, and secrets he took to his grave. There is no one who connected with me more than him. We knew each others’ flaws, yet it didn’t change how we saw each other. Siblings, who had each others’ backs through thick and thin. 

In the 5 years since Al left us, I have had the honor of working with the foundation, being the spokesperson for announcing scholarships, and playing an active role in the yearly cook-off. I see joy, excitement, and lives being changed. I see Alex’s name in lights. He would be so proud. I keep his story living on in my heart and community. I see him being remembered. What a blessing!

So what about the here and now? Here, I recognize how vitally important it is to cultivate and maintain the relationship with loved ones before it’s too late. There will never be enough time, so carve out the time for those whom you treasure most. Life goes on, but so does grief. Don’t push it away….ask what lesson is to be learned when grief visits. Hold space for others in their grief…..I personally remember the people who were there….and also those who weren’t. You never know what one hug or conversation might do for someone else. 

And now? I keep going. It’s what I know Al would want from me. I can hear his voice in my head saying to go for the next goal. I remember his hug that always made my day. And I have the sweet hope of seeing him again one day. 

My Last Goodbyes

It was late afternoon on October 19, 2018. My parents, brother, and grandma all packed themselves like sardines in the car and hiked a four and a half hour trip to visit me. Somehow, they managed to make it a 7 hour trip with all the stops. I was working at the best job I have ever had. I was so happy there. Even though it was only temporary, I gave it my all. But this particular Friday afternoon…..I was about to see my family! I hadn’t seen them since my birthday in July, and I couldn’t wait to spend time with my brother because our schedules had been so busy that I hadn’t seen him as much as I wanted to.

This whole week I spent time cleaning my apartment to prepare for my brother. While my parents and grandma stayed in a hotel, Alex stayed with me. When we finally had time to hang out after dinner, we had a good laugh because I told him I got on my hands and knees to scrub the floor to prepare for him spending the weekend. He gave me a big hug when I said that. I didn’t know it then, but this would be the hug that would forever be etched in my heart and mind. I was so tired, but I stayed up with him as long as I could to talk with him. He was the only family member I ever felt I could be myself around. And it felt so good to finally be with him.

That weekend, we packed all that we could into 48 hours. We went all around the city, ate out, and made lots of memories. Sunday after church, we ate at this fancy brunch spot to celebrate my brother and my dad’s birthday. Let me tell you….my family is not made for the fancy crowds. I never know what fork to use, or the proper etiquette, so I always stick out like a sore thumb! It didn’t matter. Alex always knew how to make us laugh, so we laughed throughout the whole brunch at ourselves!

Then, we said our goodbyes, and they were on the road. Honestly, it was a relief at the time. All the running around was exhausting, and I was ready to rest. I didn’t feel like I had enough time with Alex, but I said to myself, I only have one more month at my temp job, and then I’ll be home to spend the holidays with him again.

Fast forward to after Thanksgiving. It was Alex’s last week, and I was on the phone with my mom. She always talks with me on speakerphone, and Alex walked in and joined the conversation. I don’t remember everything, but I remember telling him how I look forward to coming home and that I wanted him to cook my favorite dishes….Eggs Benedict for breakfast….and scallops for dinner! I couldn’t wait to get home and have his cooking again. The conversation ended, and I told him bye, and that I love him. It would be my last time hearing his voice.

I was only 8 days away from completing my temp job. 8 days alway from going home and spending time with Alex. All the memories that could have been…..that should have been…..were stolen from me. Life isn’t fair, and no matter how much I wish I had done things differently, the past is already written. I could dwell on the loss, but instead, I’ll choose to remember my last goodbyes like this:

The last hug, the last goodbye, the last I love you. They all happened in really happy moments. That was Alex. Always cracking a joke, or making you laugh. It’s only fitting that my last goodbyes were all happy ones.

God, Church, and Grief

Church…..it used to be my place of peace….the place I drew strength from, and the place I was encouraged. Now, it seems more like the place that haunts me with my deepest sorrows.  

God….I trusted Him above everyone and everything. When people and situations failed me, He was always there to see me through. I trusted him with every ounce of my heart. He walked with me through every heart break, every disappointment, and I cherished Him through every valley and mountaintop.  I have never known the pain of broken trust until my brother passed away. If the one person you trust more than anything in the world did something that breaks your heart beyond repair, then maybe you can see a glimpse into the heartbrokenness I feel.  I know I’m not worthy of trust, but after my brother passed….after God allowed it….knowing the anguish it would cause my family….I just didn’t know how I could ever trust Him again. 

I remember going to the funeral home to see Alex for the first time after his death. I heard the cries of my parents looking down at him, and it broke me. When it was my turn to say goodbye, I remember touching his cold hand, and I was at a loss of words. Time stood still, and yet it wasn’t long enough. There was so much I wanted to say, and yet all that I could muster out was ‘You were the best brother Alex.’  I think this night only solidified my anger and disappointment in God. In church, I always sang that God never failed me…but this night…God failed my entire family, and I’m still not quite sure how to cope with that fact.  

There have been many days like this. Days where I miss my brother so much that I don’t know what to do. Then, there are days where I’m okay.  No matter how I’m feeling on any particular day, I’m always reminded that he’s not here…and my time with him is up.  

Coping with grief has been so unbearably hard. The place where I used to draw strength from is now the entrance wound to my pain.  I often wonder if I will ever trust God the way I used to. Right now, to be honest, I don’t actually believe He’s going to answer my prayers.  Grim as it may sound, it’s me being honest with my feelings. No need to hide them since God already knows my thoughts and feelings.  

I know this doesn’t sound like a testimony, and that’s ok. This testimony isn’t for the people looking for some gimmick that will make you jump and shout for joy. This is for those who are in the valley. This is for those who have or are currently experiencing a loss or situation so devastating that you’ve lost hope in God.  Contrary to the super churchy people telling you to ‘have faith’ or ‘just give it to God,’ or the dreaded ‘God will work all things together for good.’…..it’s ok to be honest and admit how you feel. Actually, I’d argue that it’s healthy to admit and share your feelings with God.  At some point, we will all have relationships with family, friends, and/or a spouse where trust or hearts have been broken. It takes time…..sometimes a long time for that relationship to heal and mend.  That’s where I am with God. My mind knows He is always here and cares, but my heart is broken and it’s going to take time to heal.  God could have saved my brother, and He chose not to….I’ll wrestle with the ‘why’ until I see God in Heaven.  Until then, I have to go through this valley to wherever it leads.  For those also walking through this valley….I’m with you, I’m sorry you are also going through your sorrow, and I hope my story can encourage you in your journey that you’re not alone. In fact, there’s an army of people walking with you who will help you along in this journey through grief.