People always say that on days like bridal showers, rehearsal dinners, and weddings, there’s a thick emotional charge that clouds the air, and at any moment, it can be burst with the slightest thing said or alluded to. I guess that happened today when we had a “memory” activity, where all the attendees were asked to write down a fond memory they had with me. One of my cousins’ wives shared the memory of how she asked Ed and me to be candle sponsors at her wedding in July 2007. She said she remembered us walking down the aisle together to light two candles to become one for their future path together, and that she was thankful to have us to take part in this special ceremony on her wedding day. As soon as I saw Ed’s name on the card I was reading, I couldn’t help it and just burst into tears. It’s one of those extremely awkward moments where you know you have 15 other people literally gathered around and watching you, but you can’t do anything to control the tears from flowing. I had to keep taking deep breaths to control myself and prevent myself from needing to run out of the room. It was also a trigger for my mother, clearly, as I heard her sniffling and getting choked up with her own tears. That wedding was over eight years ago now. It’s still hard to believe he’s not here anymore, and these events only magnify that for me.

I’ve written this in my blog quite a number of times, but I feel like I can’t say enough how lucky and blessed a life I live. I had friends and family fly in from Phoenix, Seattle, New York, and even Singapore for my bridal shower and bachelorette weekend, and though I didn’t really need or ask for them, received extremely generous and thoughtful gifts and cards from them all. But as great as it is to have all of their love for me under the same roof at the same time, it’s hard for me to ignore the fact that my brother won’t be at home afterwards, asking me what gifts I got and what food he missed out on for being a guy who couldn’t be invited to a women-only bridal shower. I can even imagine his face and his exclamation if he were to see some of the lingerie our cousins-in-law got me as gifts. I know if he were here, he’d be excited for me, even through his own inner suffering. It’s as though every day that passes is another day of missing him and seeing all these things happening around me that he will never get to experience. I miss him the most on Thanksgiving, Christmas, his birthday, my birthday, our dad’s birthday, and the anniversary of his passing. Any wedding-related day can also now be added to that sad list.