It is fair to say that my family have the monopoly over all major dates in the UK. My mums birthday is typically on or around Mothers Day, my dads is around Fathers Day and my little brother died on August 26th, making it invariably the August Bank Holiday weekend.
Last night, my husband and I were whiling away the evening playing Mario Cart on Nintendo 64, very very 'old skool', and I'm so bad it hurts. It takes my hubby and I back to when Oli was still here and the two played together whenever Ol came to stay. I have a mascara streaked face with all the tears. I just felt this overwhelming, although irrational, fear that I was letting him (Oli) down. I was playing with his favourite, the Toad, and I was so terrible at it that I just felt I was ruining all his hard gaming. I've since spoken to my sister who says that Ol definitely would have been laughing at me, but still, I honestly couldn't miss him more.
I used to think that I'd do anything to have him back, for one more hug, for one more laugh, for one more anything, and I'd do it, but now I have my own babies there are some things off limits. It's horrible though, to lose your brother. I once read that if you lose your parents, you lose your past, and your babies, your future, but that losing a sibling is losing your past, present and future. There is no reminiscing with him, no drinking, no more ramblings on the phone while he walks home from work. There will be no meeting his wife, no meeting his children, no family summer barbecues. There is no Uncle Oli for my babies, although there is, I do talk about him. But it is sad that they will never meet him.
I was 5 months pregnant with 'O' when he died, so he knew. He thought 'O' was going to be a girl, he was wrong. He thought I'd just made up morning sickness, he was wrong! He was too young to go, too talented, too good.
So, this weekend, on Monday, my family are coming over after golf, to celebrate his life, on what will be the third anniversary of his death. Golf was one of Oli's passions, and he was pretty good at it, so it is something that makes us feel more connected to him, although I must admit that this year I'm not playing. I just don't feel like it. Perhaps when my little boys are a little older and I have time to play a bit more, then I'll feel like competing. It will be competing, no member of my family plays anything to just take part!
My husband and I will be cooking Jamie's Empire Roast Chicken again, because it was awesome, with a few new sides to bulk it out a bit, Brinjal Bhaji (an aubergine curry) and Naan, all home-made of course, and for pudding, a Peach Cobbler.
We will be releasing helium balloons in Arsenal colours, red and silver (I couldn't get hold of white), for Oli, to say hi. We'll probably play a few games, and we'll definitely have a good time. I love my family, I love my life, but I miss my brother every second he is gone.
This is for all my family, and TCF brothers and sisters.
xx
Last night, my husband and I were whiling away the evening playing Mario Cart on Nintendo 64, very very 'old skool', and I'm so bad it hurts. It takes my hubby and I back to when Oli was still here and the two played together whenever Ol came to stay. I have a mascara streaked face with all the tears. I just felt this overwhelming, although irrational, fear that I was letting him (Oli) down. I was playing with his favourite, the Toad, and I was so terrible at it that I just felt I was ruining all his hard gaming. I've since spoken to my sister who says that Ol definitely would have been laughing at me, but still, I honestly couldn't miss him more.
I used to think that I'd do anything to have him back, for one more hug, for one more laugh, for one more anything, and I'd do it, but now I have my own babies there are some things off limits. It's horrible though, to lose your brother. I once read that if you lose your parents, you lose your past, and your babies, your future, but that losing a sibling is losing your past, present and future. There is no reminiscing with him, no drinking, no more ramblings on the phone while he walks home from work. There will be no meeting his wife, no meeting his children, no family summer barbecues. There is no Uncle Oli for my babies, although there is, I do talk about him. But it is sad that they will never meet him.
I was 5 months pregnant with 'O' when he died, so he knew. He thought 'O' was going to be a girl, he was wrong. He thought I'd just made up morning sickness, he was wrong! He was too young to go, too talented, too good.
So, this weekend, on Monday, my family are coming over after golf, to celebrate his life, on what will be the third anniversary of his death. Golf was one of Oli's passions, and he was pretty good at it, so it is something that makes us feel more connected to him, although I must admit that this year I'm not playing. I just don't feel like it. Perhaps when my little boys are a little older and I have time to play a bit more, then I'll feel like competing. It will be competing, no member of my family plays anything to just take part!
My husband and I will be cooking Jamie's Empire Roast Chicken again, because it was awesome, with a few new sides to bulk it out a bit, Brinjal Bhaji (an aubergine curry) and Naan, all home-made of course, and for pudding, a Peach Cobbler.
We will be releasing helium balloons in Arsenal colours, red and silver (I couldn't get hold of white), for Oli, to say hi. We'll probably play a few games, and we'll definitely have a good time. I love my family, I love my life, but I miss my brother every second he is gone.
This is for all my family, and TCF brothers and sisters.
xx
Oli and I, 2007, xx
RSS Feed