I thought today was going to be more difficult than it was. That doesn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt. But through the hurt, I felt you there. Did you see the cheese enchiladas I made for you? No sour cream. Not a drop. They were spicy, too. We didn't have any candles and there was no cake, but there was a celebration of you. Last night was pretty hard. I rode home from Daryll's parents' house in the dark and in silence. Daryll chattered away as VNV Nation played in the stereo. I was thinking of you. I was missing you. “Endless Skies” is my favorite. From the time I first listened to it on your iPod, it has become a permanent part of my soul...just like you. Last night was different, though. Daryll went silent and we listened as the night passed by us on our weary way home. I listen to that song, and sometimes it brings me to tears. Tears did come, but they accompanied a different thought. As I marveled at the beauty of the song's meaning, I found myself wondering what it must be like to listen to it, knowing that you're dying. It changed the meaning, or perhaps just added to it, sending it deeper into my heart. What a huge and bizarre thought. I wondered and I still wonder what it was like to know that time was growing short. I guess it's one of those things, like losing your baby brother, that you can't begin to imagine until it happens. I hope my time won't be any time soon, but when it comes, I wonder if I'll finally understand what you did. I'm sure I'll think of you.
There have been so many lessons since you left. There has been the obvious, indescribable pain and there has been triumph and joy. Uncertainty is a constant. It lingers above my head, even as I type this. That's the amazing thing. Nothing ever really is certain and nothing is guaranteed. Some would take this as as bad thing. I just take it for what it is and I try my best to extract the lessons. I try my best to be strong while allowing myself room for occasional weakness. I think that's important. You can't have strength without weakness. You have to allow for it, or it blindsides you. Then you're curled up on the floor, shaking like a leaf. But then, even when that happens, there is a lesson there as well. I've actually changed how I see lessons. I used to think there was a reason for everything as if the divine power had specific lessons for us to learn...like something from a teacher's manual. I don't think that way so much, these days. Sometimes, I think things happen for no reason at all. No planning behind it, no great meaning intended. That's not to say that we can't find the lessons on our own. What happens, will happen and what I learn from it is up to me. I like that thought so much better. It means that no matter what happens, however wonderful or awful, I can choose the lesson. I choose to learn from this. I choose to find the importance, the truths, the meanings in these seemingly senseless events. I choose to find divinity in it, because we all harbor some form of divinity and we translate it as best we know how. I'm doing the best I know how and I'm learning every step of the way. Sometimes it hurts. God, it hurts. I miss you so deeply and I love you so very much.
You would have been 25 today. It's been a quarter century since you “comed in the night”...in that little white house in Salt Lake City, Utah. It's been a quarter century. It's been no time at all and yet the absence feels eternal. Happy Birthday, George. I am so proud of you.
“How many years since you found yourself
Staring at an endless sky?
Unaware of yourself
Who you are and where you're going
Only living
Only breathing
Losing all sense of time
The most fragile of things
Captivates and embraces you
Surrender and be witness
To this rarest of moments
You live within the sense
Of the order of things
What is truth
What is important
What defines you
No need to fear
No need to worry
About years that passed
About time you lost
Live seconds as a lifetime
Time it does not matter
You live within the sense
Of the stillness of time”
~Vnv Nation
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