Last week, I finally booked a trip for my parents to go to the Grand Canyon. This is a trip my mom has been wanting to do for a long time. She actually wanted to do it last year but was ultra dramatic about Ed’s condition, so she decided against it last March. The four of us were all supposed to go together. Now this April, the three of us will go without Ed, and Chris will be joining us.
It felt really good to plan and arrange all of this for my family, but the entire time going through flights, hotels, and tours, I felt a little pain knowing Ed would not be joining us. Last night, I dreamt that my parents and I were at the hotel in Phoenix during our upcoming trip, and for whatever reason, my mom randomly decided to bring a collection of photos of Ed as a child. I slowly went through them and paused on his elementary school yearly portraits. He’s so, so innocent, I thought. And then I began to cry. My mom continued doing what she was doing, oblivious to my tears.
Those photos depicted him when he was much younger, but at heart, he was always a child – so innocent and trusting and naive. I really miss my brother.