As much as I don't get along with my older brother, and detest Christmas, it's funny that one of the few warm memories of my brother is him opening presents on Christmas morning when we were maybe nine and ten. I remember seeing him so totally absorbed in his task and so happy. He hasn't had the happiest life as we were poor, and he was picked on even worse than I was as a kid, so moments of happiness were as rare for him as they were for me. But that moment... the "magic of Christmas" held sway... and he was surrounded in Joy. The Joy of a child at Christmas.
I sometimes wonder if his being picked on so much is what caused him to torture me so much as a kid. Or was it the fact that he really just wasn't that smart.
In any case, I remember stopping my own Christmas ritual of unbridled avarice and watching him. That image has stuck with me all these years, as much as the look he had on his face when he used to beat me up has.
Maybe that's the true meaning of the Holidays- that even someone like him can experience happiness.
Lisa has been dead two months now. I still cry for her every day. Every G*damn day. Someone recently called me obsessed with it. I say everyone mourns their own way. I wrote somewhere that as a former paramedic, I've seen Death. I've watched friends die. But nothing- NOTHING- has ever hit me this hard in my life. Why? So many reasons. But mostly it comes down to this: she was my sister, she had it all, threw it away, and I really miss her.
I've always been fascinated by History. Everything that the world is today has roots in the past. Events build upon each other. As for the world, so also for the individual. By studying history, I sought to understand the "why" of the events of the world in which we live.
In particular, I've always been drawn to military history. Grand battles and tactics, yes, but more so the stories of the individual soldiers. What Strength carried them through all their hardships? From where did this strength come? The experiences of people in extraordinary, even insane circumstances, has always fascinated me. If these people can survive the amazing challenges and survive...
How can I do less with my challenges, trifling as they are next to what they experienced?
I believe in Ghosts. I believe in Spirits. Don't judge me.
Tonight at my retail job is our "holiday meeting" where management tries to psyche us up for the upcoming Hell of the season. It's the only all-store meeting they have all year. During this meeting, I will receive my "10 year pin." I have never felt more pathetic.
I may or may not see my parents at Thanksgiving. Everyone has advised me NOT to tell them about being TG. Yet they will grill me and Wife mercilessly about us not living together. I am not looking forward to this. The following day, I have to be at work at 6 AM. before Dawn.
I can't string together a cohesive thought right now.
I sometimes wonder if his being picked on so much is what caused him to torture me so much as a kid. Or was it the fact that he really just wasn't that smart.
In any case, I remember stopping my own Christmas ritual of unbridled avarice and watching him. That image has stuck with me all these years, as much as the look he had on his face when he used to beat me up has.
Maybe that's the true meaning of the Holidays- that even someone like him can experience happiness.
Lisa has been dead two months now. I still cry for her every day. Every G*damn day. Someone recently called me obsessed with it. I say everyone mourns their own way. I wrote somewhere that as a former paramedic, I've seen Death. I've watched friends die. But nothing- NOTHING- has ever hit me this hard in my life. Why? So many reasons. But mostly it comes down to this: she was my sister, she had it all, threw it away, and I really miss her.
I've always been fascinated by History. Everything that the world is today has roots in the past. Events build upon each other. As for the world, so also for the individual. By studying history, I sought to understand the "why" of the events of the world in which we live.
In particular, I've always been drawn to military history. Grand battles and tactics, yes, but more so the stories of the individual soldiers. What Strength carried them through all their hardships? From where did this strength come? The experiences of people in extraordinary, even insane circumstances, has always fascinated me. If these people can survive the amazing challenges and survive...
How can I do less with my challenges, trifling as they are next to what they experienced?
I believe in Ghosts. I believe in Spirits. Don't judge me.
Gratuitous Picture
Tonight at my retail job is our "holiday meeting" where management tries to psyche us up for the upcoming Hell of the season. It's the only all-store meeting they have all year. During this meeting, I will receive my "10 year pin." I have never felt more pathetic.
I may or may not see my parents at Thanksgiving. Everyone has advised me NOT to tell them about being TG. Yet they will grill me and Wife mercilessly about us not living together. I am not looking forward to this. The following day, I have to be at work at 6 AM. before Dawn.
I can't string together a cohesive thought right now.
Be strong. Have continued resolve. We are not others, nor their unfortunate actions that led to their demise. Celebrate every good moment, and strive to continue to make your situation better for YOU! When you're happy, the outlook always appears more positive. And that, my dear sister, is something to celebrate. Much love! <3
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