Wednesday, April 12, 2006


Yesterday was the anniversary of my brother's death. It's been 13 years since he died of leukemia. The day itself was uneventful, full of typical mom stuff: potty-training, nursing, running to the store for a few things. On the way back from the store I heard a song that always reminded me of George, even before he got sick, just the tail-end of the song. There I am driving around on a most beautiful day--blue skies, cummulus clouds, hyacinth in bloom, daffodils popping open--and I start to cry--not sobbing, more like leaking.

I take the long way home to hear the last notes of that song and as I'm rounding the corner to our street a Christian crossover song (I guess that's what it was) starts to play as the other's notes fade away. I'm listening to the lyrics as I pull in the driveway and now I am sobbing. I'm remembering that my brother towards the end became Born Again and how much he would have liked this song. Somehow I felt that he was playing this song for let me know he's O.K.... what else could it have been? I've never heard a Christian song on the radio before--it really shook me up. I miss him.


Alison P. said...


So sorry.


michi said...

thanks for sharing this, suzanne. it's alright to cry for someone or something we have lost. i did not know this about your past, and i can only say "sorry". hug, m

Radish King said...

I still mourn for my sister, after all these years, and she died in spring, May 14. It is beautiful that the entire world is in bloom when that dark day comes.

Simmons B. Buntin said...


You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-- Mary Oliver

jeannine said...

Suzanne, your remembrance is beautiful. I'm so sorry. Love to you.

gina said...

"Somehow I felt that he was playing this song for let me know he's O.K.... what else could it have been?"

That you honor him with your remembering, and let him know you're okay, you're thinking of him, that also.

Suzanne said...

Thanks for the kind words and the lovely poem. xo

LitByFire said...

oh sweetie...

Sheryl said...

I'm so sorry to hear about this. God Bless.

Suzanne said...

Thanks you two. xo

Support for Sobriety said...

But isn't grief rich, and precious? That part is the gift, at least in my experience.

Anne said...

My dad died 12 years ago, and I am still surprised by an upwelling of grief now and then -- sometimes around an anniversary, but sometimes with no immediately obvious trigger. I think sometimes it's the surprise of it that shakes us, yes? It is hard, but I think sometimes there is a comfort in being reminded that you have not forgotten...

Wishing you comfort.

Suzanne said...

Good point, Kelly. Nice to see you here.

Suzanne said...

Yes, exactly---the surpise of it and the comfort, too. Thank you. xo

Emily Lloyd said...

Love to you, Suzanne. And to George.

Kay Day said...

Suzanne, I believe those who are loved stay on, in the hearts of those who love them. My grandmother used to speak the name of the dead aloud, on special days. I still do this with my children--the impact is that they actually feel like they know people who died, some even before they were born. I think we keep the spirits of those we love alive somehow. We can tell their stories. We can talk to them, you know? And sometimes, like with your songs in the car, we can hear them I think. best to you, Kay Day

Patry Francis said...

Thank you for sharing this beautiful reflection, and a bit of your brother.

SarahJane said...

Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane
I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain
Oh and I can see Daniel waving goodbye
God it looks like Daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes

god, that's really sad. but it's beautiful to remember someone.
best to you

Suzanne said...

I am so touched by the compassion I have found in this box. Thank you. xo

Peter said...

Lovely post/remembrance. This broght tears to my eyes.

Suzanne said...

Thanks, Peter. xo