I was recently watching Joan River's documentary and she was speaking on having to fire someone that had been in her life for the longest period of time and how bad it hurt.
It sounds silly because I didn't fire Micah, Micah died. That being said, she was upset because firing this person meant kicking them out of her life permanently and this was hard because he was her last memory bank. That completely resonated with me because I realize I am young and I will have Tripp one day to look back on and say, "Do you remember that time?" But the hardest thing currently and will always be, is that my link to my childhood is gone. Your siblings are your links to that I believe. Micah was the only person that was in that room when we were playing video games or going to Grandmother's while our parents were away. He was the only one that knew how our parents marriage affected us because we were in the same position. I will never have my link that I can go to and say, Do you remember?
When Joan said it on the movie it clicked with me that for 6 months I've been reminiscing on memories that no one knows about because it was just Micah and I. That's the thing, it was just the two of us and we were home-schooled, did karate together, did shooting sports and when you got one, you got both. He was the one that knew about pizza and candles at Grandmothers and how bored we were when they had to watch Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights. He knew how irritating it could be when dad wouldn't let us have earphones in the car so we could drown the world out or how we HAD to be on time for everything growing up or you would legit get left at the house. He knew the people in the neighborhood growing up and we would talk about how stupid some of them were and when we thought about how we used to play banjo-kazooie, it was completely embarrassing.
My poor husband listens and my friends listen but I don't have the person that was there with me to talk about how ridiculous it was, how painful it was or how stupid we were. They don't know the parts of the story to make fun of me about and they didn't have the room next to mine for 21 years.
It's just surreal, surreal that I can't make fun of those memories with him and that my children won't grow up hearing us reflecting on our adventures when we were their age. I grew up listening to my mom and Uncle Al talk about things they went through and funny stories about what Grandmother did to them when they would get in trouble. It's difficult to think that he isn't here to do that with me.
My memory bank is gone. The person that knows my parents like I do isn't here. It's hard when my dad is being a headache or my mom is doing something silly to not have him here to be like, what are they thinking or doing?! He knows how my dad can be a jerk and how it's our job to calm mom down. I mean we've been through those things countless times together. But..Micah isn't here. He's gone. It's just me. I think that it's easy to take that for granted, having a memory bank. I know I definitely did. I promise that as I grow older and Tripp and I create our own memory bank to not take it for granted.
I hope someone can relate and maybe I can make someone feel less crazy because they are going through similar things. Grief is the hardest battle I've ever had to face, even when I've been told I'm doing it wrong, I have to believe that better days are ahead.
Ps. He would say this whole post is super gay. Sorry bub :).
This is the clip for the movie and it includes what inspired this post.