We hosted brunch at our apartment today, which ended up lasting over seven hours. We’re spending more time with Chris’s cousin and her boyfriend visiting from overseas and spent a lot of time talking about random family memories and going through old photos and videos from family events. I made lemon ricotta pancakes with sauteed apples, two types of smoked chicken sausage (one with sun-dried tomatoes and mozzarella and another with apple), scrambled eggs with Vermont sharp cheddar cheese that we got from Cabot Creamery Annex in Vermont (plus extra spices that Chris threw in), and peaches. It really did feel nice to just be at home relaxing all Saturday afternoon.
At around 6:30, I realized it was probably time to call my parents, so I went into the bedroom and called home. My dad answered the home phone, so we chatted for about fifteen minutes when my dad told me that my mom wasn’t home because she was out preaching. Then, I caught myself before I asked, “Where’s Ed?” I started getting a sulky feeling and felt miserable for the next few hours.
You’d think that if your brother had died and had been away from this world for almost 11 months that you would constantly be aware of it and never even think to ask such a dumb question. But I guess that because he’s so much a part of who I am that sometimes I just forget for a second that he actually is not here anymore – in our form, breathing and blinking and with his heart beating the way yours and mine does. I have moments on and off when I wonder where he is and what he is doing, as though he’s still one of us. Why haven’t I spoken to you in almost 11 months? The questions and the pain never seem to end.