Dreams

I'm not quite sure when it will stop feeling like a dream. When the feeling that I can pick up the phone and hear my brother's voice will stop. It gets me, often. I see things or hear things or take a picture that I want to show him, and for a split second, I almost do it. And then I remember. And then, without control, the movie starts.

From 4:30 pm on Thursday, December 12 that I got the call that his heart was de-satting and the doctors said to call the family, the movie runs through until I drove home around noon on Friday, December 13. My nightmare, flooding my head.

I still have his voicemails. I listen. "Hey Mag, it's your brother...." is how he starts every one. It's how we referred to ourselves and each other, 'your brother' 'your sister'. I am nobody's sister.

My heart hasn't felt this raw in a while. 6 weeks from the worst day of my entire life, and I will sit and countdown the minutes. I will drop Eddie off at school at 9:45, when doctors were rounding. I will countdown the minutes until 11:02 when they said the words I dreaded. I will remember everyone's face and their voices. My nightmare.

If I could call him, he would laugh at the outrageousness of it all. Would tell me that the chances were one in a million.

He truly was one in a million. My North Star. And I am so, so lost without him shining.