I came back home to San Francisco today, and after having lunch at home with my parents, we went to visit Ed at the Columbarium. I found out that my dad had picked a fight with my mom yesterday because he wanted to visit Ed on his birthday, but she refused and insisted that they should wait until today so I could join them. He didn’t think it was right and said Ed should be able to see them on his birthday. It’s the little things my dad does now that make me really sad; it’s like he is trying in his own small ways to try to make things right to make up for all the time when Ed was alive… when things were all wrong.

The Columbarium finally added Ed’s name to the search directory. When I had visited last February, his name still hadn’t been put into the system, and my parents told the director that it should have been added ages ago. Last month, they added in his name.. but instead of reading “Wong, Edward,” it read “Wong, Edwin.” My parents had to fill out a form to get this corrected (apparently because having his death certificate on record with his actual name was not enough).

The prompt says, “Type in the first three letters of the LAST name.” I typed in “WON” and hit “Search.” The results listed many Wongs… and there he was:

Wong, Edward

Born: 8/26/1979 — Died: 7/22/2013

Below this information, the screen shows what hall and floor he is on, as well as the section and niche number. I didn’t realize that there were numbers on each niche.

I stared at this screen for a long time and felt numb. The screen became a bit of a blur as my eyes watered. I couldn’t take my eyes off the Born/Died line. Why does it look so terrible? He was born in 1979 and died in 2013? Why can’t it say…Born: 8/26/1979 — Died: ________. Some of the directories are like this because of the reserved niche spaces. His unfortunately is not reserved; it’s occupied. This is real. His death is real. Even when I don’t want to admit it, he’s really dead and out of my reach. One year and five weeks later, it’s still not completely real to me.

Last night, Chris took us to a show at the Flea Theater downtown called “Smoke,” which is about a guy and a girl who both have twisted ideas for what turns them on. The girl loves to be tortured, while the guy loves to use knives… during sex. So this show ultimately culminated in some odd dreams for me last night. In the most vivid dream, I am sitting on a chair in the middle of my parents’ living room, which is actually empty except for the chair, and Ed has a small but very sharp knife in his hands. I am wearing a cropped top and have my midriff exposed, and as I am sitting there plainly, Ed is carving different letters of the alphabet across my torso. I am bleeding from the cuts, but I feel nothing.

The allergies are back, and apparently today, the pollen count is high according to what Chris read. My nose is stuffy and runny, my throat feels phlegmy, and my head feels like a big cloud has wrapped itself around it. The front of my face feels like it’s being blocked by something. Today kind of sucks.

I ended up going home early to rest, and then I spent a lot of time reading about suicide prevention advocacy programs and how to get involved. There’s so much to do in the world to help others, and seemingly not enough time to do everything.

I was also wondering why there are suicide prevention walks but not marathons or runs. Considering that suicide claims more lives each year than automobile accidents, you’d think that there might be runs or marathons to support it. Or maybe it doesn’t sound as cool as to say that you are running for suicide because of the stigma around it versus running to fight breast cancer.

In less than three days, I’ve managed to surpass my fundraising goal for the Out of the Darkness walk for suicide prevention. I had no idea that people I e-mailed would be so generous with their donations. I guess people can surprise me in positive ways more often than I would normally give them credit for.

I’ve debated whether I want to publish this to Facebook or not. The fact that this is even a question in my head is obviously testament to today’s era of everything being about social networks. Would anyone actually donate money to this cause for me if they didn’t already know the back story of what happened with Ed? Would they even care? I’m honestly not sure.

Chris said that I should tell my parents I am doing this. I’m not sure I want to do that either. My parents have always disapproved of any volunteer or charity work I have done. When I first suggested donating money in my brother’s name after he passed away, they both thought I was being ridiculous and wasteful, and said that Ed’s gone; what difference would a donation do? What am I trying to do — save the world?

Ben, Chris’s brother, does Toastmasters in Toronto, and one of the speeches he most recently gave was about Vital Friends, a book that Chris recommended he read after a falling out with a friend. The book is about how it’s impossible to expect all friends to fulfill all of your needs, but each friend should fulfill at least one role that is essential for your happiness and connection.

He and I had a chat about his speech today, and he said that the two roles that are non-negotiable for him across all of his friends, close or distant, is the role of “champion” and “collaborator.” The role of champion sounds like what you’d expect – this person supports you no matter what you do and cheers you on in all the decisions you make. This person will also defend you aggressively in the event someone tries to tear you down. And the role of collaborator consists of having similar passions and interests, enjoying the same activities, etc.

I thought about the role of champion. Of my close friends, I can honestly say that only one of them has fully been a “champion” of me; she is probably more of a champion of me than I am of her. I can’t imagine the others defending me to the end. But to be fair, have I been enough of a champion of them? Or really, how do you be a genuine champion of a friend when you disagree with a lot of their major life choices?

In two days, my dad is going to turn 66. That number just sounds weird to me. Maybe it’s because “666” is unlucky, or maybe it’s because as scary as it sounds, no man in the last two generations of my family on my dad’s side have lived past 64. It’s the second birthday he will be celebrating with my brother being gone from this world.

Last year, Ed passed away on July 22. It was unanticipated despite his struggle and constant discussion of feeling worthless and having no future. Last year was probably the only year when we did absolutely nothing to acknowledge my dad’s birthday because Ed’s death was so close to his 65th. Ed didn’t get to see our dad celebrate 65. He won’t be here to see him celebrate 66, or 76, or 86. Even if we were not a family to celebrate birthdays because of my mom’s religion and the dysfunctional relationship that my dad and Ed shared, this still makes me sad. Every day, our parents will grow older, and Ed will not be here to experience it.

A friend of mine, who is an only child, said to me that she is starting to feel the burden of being an only child in that she herself has the sole responsibility of caring for her parents in their elderly years. Sadly, I now have that responsibility, too, and it’s like I am an only child now that Ed isn’t with me anymore.

A good friend and I were chatting the other day, and she had asked me about what I thought in terms of location for events like bridal showers and bachelorette parties. I honestly hadn’t spent too much time thinking about it, but for a bridal shower if I do end up having one, I ideally would really like my mom and my aunt to be there. My mom would love to be at a party like this — an event that celebrates her one and only daughter getting married. She said she’s been hoping for my own bridal shower since she attended my cousin’s wife’s bridal shower back in 2007. That was over seven years ago. So if my mom is there, most likely the most reasonable place to have a bridal shower would be in San Francisco.

I thought about friends who I’d like to invite and where they would be coming from. I have a friend in Seattle who might want to come, a friend in Little Rock, some friends in New York. Where would they stay? I thought. Well, we do have space in my parents’ house. Some could sleep in our living room. And then I thought without really thinking, I wonder how Ed is going to feel with all these girls sleeping over at our house?

And then I stopped thinking, and my eyes welled up because I couldn’t believe I forgot again that he was gone. It’s like he’s so a part of that house to me that every time I imagine it, I just think he will always be there. Every step of the way looks to be difficult and painful.

I recently was lucky enough to get a 20% off coupon for 6pm.com, so I started doing some browsing, which led to browsing on other shoe sites. My friends and I like to share and ask each others’ opinions on clothes and shoes, so I sent links to two different pairs of shoes (one very dressy and formal, another more trendy and more for casual outings) to two of my friends on the same e-mail chain. I just ask in the e-mail what their thoughts are on these shoes, and my first friend responds that one pair is really cute, but the other pair, she cannot imagine would go with any wedding dress, and she asks what type of dress I’d consider wearing with it. I literally laughed out loud when I saw her response because no where in my e-mail did I mention that these were shoes I’d consider for my future wedding. My second friend responds and says that she thought I was looking at these as potential wedding shoes.

It’s funny that this happened because it’s almost like my friends are thinking about my wedding planning more than I actually am; I wasn’t thinking about wedding anything at all when I sent these links, but they just assumed I was and were replying with a wedding mindset. I guess this is how you know when your friends are completely roped into your wedding thinking and planning.

I haven’t dreamt of Ed in a long while, but last night, he came back to me in my dreams. Maybe he missed me and decided it was time to pay me a visit. Maybe his visit was influenced by the fact that I spoke to my friend over dinner about him last night.

It’s not a happy dream like it was the last time I can remember. I am sobbing again and trying to convince him not to jump off the bridge. This seems to be an old reoccurring theme in dreams that has come back again. He is in the living room of our house and announces to our mother and me that he is planning to jump on Tuesday at 4pm. Nothing we do will stop him; it’s been scheduled and has to go according to plan. I try to tell him that I love him, but he ignores me and walks away. He probably said Tuesday because last year, he jumped on Monday, July 22. This year, July 22 falls on a Tuesday.

Suddenly, a moment in the dream comes where I think, What? He’s still alive? He hasn’t jumped off the bridge yet. I can still save him. I will save him! I will make sure he doesn’t jump! I’m so excited because I think my brother is still living and can have a chance at life.

And then I wake up and realize that he is dead and that dream was just a dream. He really did die almost a year ago. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year. How did time go by so quickly without my Ed in my life?

I’ve had a variety of reactions when sharing the news of our engagement, but I think that the saddest ones are the complete lack of reactions from two of my cousins that I grew up with. It’s sad when you assume your family would care about happy news, or any significant news, in your life, and then you find out that it’s too difficult for them to even just say the words “congratulations” in any form – over the phone, text, e-mail – anything.

The responses from Chris’s side have by far been more positive, happy, and ecstatic than mine. Even his friends overall seem more excited than my own friends do. One of my best friends was tearing up when I told her about the engagement and said she anticipated crying her eyes out at our future wedding. That was probably the happiest reaction I have gotten. Two other friends were very logistical about it and mainly just asked about time frames and potential locations. His friends and family have done everything from scream and yell when they found out to actually personally call me and get the full proposal story at the wee hours of their nights. It’s been an interesting last week of seeing and experiencing reactions of people across both of our lives. In one way, it’s made me happy that there are so many people happy for us. But in another way, I’m a little bit disappointed that the reaction overall from my side hasn’t been as excited. It’s almost like a reflection of how dysfunctional my relationships are relative to Chris’s with his family and friends.