Bloggin' Cool

I'm reposting this post because in the original one I messed up big time by making someone, as unintentionally as it was, look bad. I deeply apologize for that.

To Mus and Magikquilter, I apologize for taking down your comments with the post. I hope you understand why and that I don't mean to be disrespectful. I too want to sincerely thank you for your kind words for my loss.

Having said that, following is the first part of the original post:

It's been awhile since I last wrote something here... I've been thinking on writing about a lot of things but I haven't really been feeling like doing it... Well, I guess it's about time.

Although I'm a Christian, I'm not a religious person. I mean, I don't follow the 'rules' a religion sets, because the relationship I have is with God and Jesus and I consider it very special. I'm a person who's not out to win souls. I'm not the kind who tells people they'll go to hell if they don't believe in God, or tries to 'shove' their beliefs down other people's throat. No. My beliefs are my own and if someone doesn't believe in God, that's fine by me. I respect their points of view and beliefs, because they have their freedom to choose to believe, or not, in whatever they want to.

Why am I saying this? well, because at one point or another on this post, there may be things that you won't agree with me, the spiritual ones to be more specific, and as I respect your points of views, I'll appreciate it if you respect mine. I don't want debates or anything, I'm just writing on how I see things and how I feel. If I'm believing in a fantasy, okay, let me... for sure, I'll find out after I die.

If you can keep an open mind, read on. Otherwise don't even bother, you'll be just wasting your time.

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Four years ago, my brother was diagnosed with cancer. Those were shocking news for all of us, and I can't imagine the way he felt when the doctor told him about it. He went into surgery to get the tumor removed and then through chemotherapy. My memory is really bad, but I think he went through chemo for like 6 months. Then he went into remission for about two years, but the cancer resurged and he had to go through that tough process again.

His illness didn't affect just him but the entire family. There were ups and downs, hopes and worries. There were times we thought he would get out of it, there were times when we thought the worse

While he was fighting this illness, he taught us (his family and close friends) so many lessons. He taught us what to be strong really is. He never gave up.

During the last few weeks, there were time when he'd call me to tell me he felt like going crazy. Because he started retaining water, his stomach got swollen and, of course, made him feel uncomfortable. He wasn't able to lay down and sleep... what he had to do was to kneel next to his bed and rest his head on it in order to get some rest... man, just the thought of it pains me a lot...

The night he left us, I got so angry at God. I yelled "Why didn't you have mercy? Why did you have to take him from us?"... I was so mad... hurt... but days later, like I said to my best friend, I understood that God indeed was merciful. He was merciful to the person who needed it the most: my brother.

Losing a loved one is not easy, it's very painful. I realized that all the times I asked God to cure my brother was thinking on my family and myself... why? because I didn't want us to go through the pain of losing my little bro. I realized that I was being selfish because, not wanting us to go through that pain meant prolonging my brother's suffering. That wasn't fair. See what I'm saying?

The night I was talking to my best friend, I told him

Now that my brother's gone, I know he's cured for real... however, I would've liked it if he got cured while being with us...

Then it hit me. What if he got into remission again for about, let's say, another two years and the stupid illness resurged yet again? Then what? My brother would've had to go through the painful process of chemotherapy once again...

I miss my brother very much, but like I said to my best friend, I rather swallow the bitter pill of not having him than seeing him suffering. The thought of him being in a better place comforts me.

To me, my brother didn't die. He just left us. And no, I'm not in some kind of denial thing, and this is why: the physical connection has been cut and I won't see him, hear him or touch him again... yes, that's true, but that's here in this world. But the essence, what makes my brother is his spirit, his soul... and that lives on. My brother exists and he'll always be.

Our body is the container of such essence, if I 'die' well, it's not me who dies, it's just my container, but me... Juan won't cease to exist. We go through a transition, we transcend.

Because we're humans, getting physically 'detached' from a loved one is hard... And although I feel happy for my brother, the effects of grieving him are present: I'm snappy, forgetful (even more than I usually am), touchy, absent minded, don't have the drive to do anything... I didn't realize these were symptoms of the grieving process until one of my co-workers told me not to worry after I excused myself to her for my 'unusual' behavior.

My bro and I maintained a blog (in Spanish) together. Two weeks after his passing, I wrote him a letter in which I tell him how much I love him (yeah, it's there on the blog). I know he knew that but still... Then, a week after, I wrote him another one telling him am feeling better...

He was the one who really gave weight to that blog. Nothing will ever be the same without him...

I know it'll take time, but I have to snap out of this state of mind. I have to put these emotions aside in order to continue with my life regularly... I'm sure my bro would've wanted me to do just that.

He's memory will ALWAYS be in my heart and on my mind... Till we meet again.

Let me share with you his favorite poem:

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
     Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
     For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of Circumstance
     I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of Chance
     My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
     Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
     Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
     How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
     I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley (1849–1903)

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