what i’ll say at the memorial service

ok, so this is what i wrote. i will probably venture off topic a bit and ad lib or whatever as i go, but this is what came out when i sat down to write. we’ll be leaving in just a few minutes. i feel fine right now. i hope i can keep that strength for those around me who won’t be feeling as strong.

you don’t think you’re going to have to say goodbye to someone like this, especially your brother. that you’ll see them one day at thanksgiving and talk like you always do, get slightly irritated like you do, get laughs from them like you always do, and then just a few days later, the chance to say goodbye, or rather the chance to hold on, is ripped away from you and you have no choice in the matter.

there hasn’t been a day since last tuesday when i found out that i haven’t thought of him at least every ten seconds. memories i didn’t even remember i had came back to me. there is so much i wish i could say to him, but i hope and i have faith that somehow he’s listening even though i’m saying them into the air.

in a truly horrible time like this, when excruciating pain overcomes you without a moment’s notice, and then happiness descends when a memory sifts through you and lifts you up, it’s hard to find silver linings. but i’ve always been the kind of person to try to find those linings anyway. so i thought i’d share those with you. there’s plenty of people here to espouse the virtues of my brother, so i thought i’d share the good that i’m hoping to take away from this.

here’s my first silver lining: I think David is in a better place now. And this one is big one, the one that means the most. I think he’s happier than he ever was here. If you have faith in something, and i do, then I believe my brother is more himself now than he ever was here.

I know that when someone dies, the first thing people tend to say is “well, at least he’s in a better place now”. and while that may be true for everyone, i know it’s especially true for my brother. It’s hard to explain without sounding like I’m speaking badly of him, but ever since he was a teenager, probably, there was something about him that didn’t fit here.

He was always rebelling against that scary intelligence of his and what he perceived as inherent geekiness, rebelling against society and it’s rules with all the minor and scratches and trouble he got in, rebelling against becoming an adult. Rebelling against so many things that most people take for granted and just become.

I know that the last ten years of his life were not what he hoped they would be. I know that life was difficult for him. But that’s what makes me certain that wherever he is now, he’s more at home, that he fits better, that he’s happier.

I don’t want to speak poorly of him, but he just never quite fit in this world and there was always a struggle with him to be something he never could quite catch a hold of. And for some unexplainable reason, I belive that he has found peace and calm like he never knew here.

ok, silver lining number two: if you have to lose someone you love, you hope that their death will be the absolute best way to go. and while david might have wanted a girl to be in the same room as him!, aside from that, watching TV in your favorite position – lying on the floor like he always did, closing your eyes and falling asleep, just never to wake up – to me, that tops the list of ways to go.

Personally, selfishly, I hope that it was something in him from day one. Something he was born with maybe. that there was just something waiting to go off and that we were just really lucky to get 34 years, but even if it was just something unexpected, that happened out of the blue, it doesn’t matter. he went beautifully and peacefully into the night and I know my brother would have loved to have said he did that.

silver lining number three: I’m seeing people I haven’t seen in years. I’m rebuilding friendships that have been fractured. I’m being blessed with surrogate brothers from both my step brother and my real brother’s best friend. Me and my parents have had wonderful friends and family that have rallied around us, no questions asked. That’s a beautiful thing in and of itself and shouldn’t be taken lightly. And we have David to thank for that. And these amazing people.

the last silver lining until i come up whit another, because i will, trust me: maybe this will change me. Or change someone else. Maybe in ten years we’ll be able to look back and say, “hey, i never would have done this if it hadn’t been for David passing…”.

I think David’s life and death and spirit will inspire more than one person in here to do things differently in their life. Even if it’s something small.

If anything, it teaches us never to assume there is a forever. I know that one now. i know that well. i always assumed it’d be me and my brother growing old together. his family, my family and when it came time we’d take care of our parents together. I assumed he’d grow to be my close friend later in the years, like my mom and her brother have become.

I think that’s the hardest thing for me right now. Because, truth be told, my brother and I weren’t super super close these past few years. we’d do the family stuff and talk every once in a while, but i got caught up in life and so did he, brothers get annoying sometimes and so do sisters, and stuff happens. and you think you have all the time in the world. so my day to day existence isn’t going to be irretrievably altered, but it’s the future that I miss. the future i always expected to have with him that is no longer a possibility. I’m angry sometimes and I am irreparably sad that I will never have that.

oh, here’s another silver lining: my brother believed in angels. a lot. he wore a pendant around his neck with an angel on it. Always. it was long and looked heavily silver. I always assumed that he was trying to emulate Kobe or Allen Iverson or one of them and wear the pendants covered in diamonds because he loved those guys. But I’ve learned that it was more than that and he believed in angels to a point which I’m not even sure I can comprehend and that was the main reason for the necklace. And now i have that necklace and I’ve asked him to be my angel. The day I found out he’d passed away, I asked him, as i sat alone in my house. And I’m going to try to believe that he’ll be my angel now. I don’t think it’ll be hard to believe at all.

I was going to tell you all these stories of our childhood, but the truth is I have a poor memory and I can’t flesh them out well enough to form the perfect anecdotes.

I can tell you that up till real adulthood that comes before you actually feel like one, and especially when younger, we were the best of friends and playmates. we played so many games together. we played with bugs and he owned rats as pets that we played with and we’d play with star wars figures and we’d read together and watch tv together and play with our neighbors together. we did all that. and i am so, so, so thankful for it. because nothing can take that away.

i may not have the future i wanted, but i have a past with my brother that couldn’t be better. there was nothing we didn’t talk about, nothing we didn’t try together or try alone and then tell each other about. we were so close and i will treasure that until i am no longer breathing.<BR>

We got 34 sometimes trying, sometimes hilarious, sometimes crazy, years out of him, but we still got 34 great years. i will miss him and love him till the day i die, but no matter what, i’ve still got those 34 years.