"Today the most amazing person I ever knew... I love you so much, Andy. My friend, my best friend, my brother...see you later."
The last few time an anniversary comes around that has to do with Andy, his birthday or death day, I get quiet. I used to need to be around friends and toast him with those that held me up higher than my demons. Now, I like the quiet that comes with being alone with his memory.
6 years ago, I sat in my living room surrounded by family and friends telling tales of his memory to perhaps bring some warm sense of comfort to the lot of us. Tonight, I sit at home...alone. I am exhausted, but not because I carry the heavy grief of his death with me today above others. No, I carry that always; however, it has ceased to be so heavy. It is an occasional dullness that resonates with my day-to-day life. I am exhausted because this weekend I took my fiancé to visit his grave. And it was truly a special moment.
The last time I visited his grave, I was dealing with the ramifications of being with someone who didn't understand compassion, loyalty, and love. This time, I held tight to the one who holds my world. In all honesty, it was not this grandiose moment of, "Andy, meet J" with tears streaming down my face. It was more of a silent opening up of more of me to the one who will take my hand and wipe the tears when they come. It was beautiful really. Silently beautiful.
After visiting, a dear (monk priest) friend asked if our engagement had been blessed. No, it hadn't. And there, while the lingering death and memory of Andy clung tight to the forefront of my mind, Father blessed what I never thought would happen. In the midst of Andy's world, my unity of love was passed by the sanctity of God from my brother, the only man who held my heart while he lived, to the one who will hold it until we leave this earth.
I see such beauty in the two men God has given me. I see such compassion in the two men God has allowed me connection. I feel much love with the two men God has kept safe for me. Whether or not J understands this past weekend and what it meant to me, I don't know. Probably not. But, I would not have wanted anyone else to be standing next to me while + I once again looked upon the marble that marked the place of resting of Andrew Dever, the most compassionate person I have ever met.
It has been 6 years. My heart was shattered, seemingly irreparable, and completely unrecognizable. But... God, in his infinite ability to comfort through friends and family, has given me a heart that looks like a stained glass mosaic which has given me a colorful reason to continue to seek the light in this beautiful world, and I will try my best to continue to give the amount of love and compassion Andy once gave me.
-Sleep with the angels, my brother.
The last few time an anniversary comes around that has to do with Andy, his birthday or death day, I get quiet. I used to need to be around friends and toast him with those that held me up higher than my demons. Now, I like the quiet that comes with being alone with his memory.
6 years ago, I sat in my living room surrounded by family and friends telling tales of his memory to perhaps bring some warm sense of comfort to the lot of us. Tonight, I sit at home...alone. I am exhausted, but not because I carry the heavy grief of his death with me today above others. No, I carry that always; however, it has ceased to be so heavy. It is an occasional dullness that resonates with my day-to-day life. I am exhausted because this weekend I took my fiancé to visit his grave. And it was truly a special moment.
The last time I visited his grave, I was dealing with the ramifications of being with someone who didn't understand compassion, loyalty, and love. This time, I held tight to the one who holds my world. In all honesty, it was not this grandiose moment of, "Andy, meet J" with tears streaming down my face. It was more of a silent opening up of more of me to the one who will take my hand and wipe the tears when they come. It was beautiful really. Silently beautiful.
After visiting, a dear (monk priest) friend asked if our engagement had been blessed. No, it hadn't. And there, while the lingering death and memory of Andy clung tight to the forefront of my mind, Father blessed what I never thought would happen. In the midst of Andy's world, my unity of love was passed by the sanctity of God from my brother, the only man who held my heart while he lived, to the one who will hold it until we leave this earth.
I see such beauty in the two men God has given me. I see such compassion in the two men God has allowed me connection. I feel much love with the two men God has kept safe for me. Whether or not J understands this past weekend and what it meant to me, I don't know. Probably not. But, I would not have wanted anyone else to be standing next to me while + I once again looked upon the marble that marked the place of resting of Andrew Dever, the most compassionate person I have ever met.
It has been 6 years. My heart was shattered, seemingly irreparable, and completely unrecognizable. But... God, in his infinite ability to comfort through friends and family, has given me a heart that looks like a stained glass mosaic which has given me a colorful reason to continue to seek the light in this beautiful world, and I will try my best to continue to give the amount of love and compassion Andy once gave me.
-Sleep with the angels, my brother.
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