One Month Since Al Passed, And I Walked a Forward Step Today

Although a week after Al passed I painted two complete rooms and had my ceilings in the living room and kitchen repainted, I must move on. Today is a day I have no plans. These type of days are my hardest.

So, I didn’t want to cry. I have been in his room and even though it makes me so sad and gives me a pair of wet eyes, I need to talk to him by looking at his personal stuff. Shoes, pictures, all his cars, coca cola. It just speaks of who Al was.

I cooked down some chicken and when it was cool, I de-boned it. To this I added mushrooms, small potatoes, carrots, celery, a few apple slices, some frozen mixed veggies. Along with tons of spices I smell an aroma that makes my mouth water.

Then I went to my desk. Under the cubby hole of it were papers galore having to do with Al. I just dug in and started going through all of it. Sorting what I thought I may still need and others placing in different piles.

This led to a cleaning out of my desk drawers. Now it looks so empty. All I see is my things. I boxed his up and filed them and dated them and placed them in their proper storage area.

I don’t mean to hide you away dear brother, but I have to move on. Don’t worry, there are plenty of things I can’t even touch yet as my heart still breaks when I look at certain things. I could never forget you brother.

When Mom passed a way, Dad was still living. I used to go to my phone and dial her number wanting to tell her something and then stopped, realizing I couldn’t. When Dad died, and I lived in the house with Al, I used to play the answering machine for a long time just so I could hear his voice.

Now with Al being gone I have gotten a little smarter. I made a little video of you a week before you died. It not only has your face; it also has your voice. I have it placed ever so gently in a special file on my computer. Any time I think I am going to forget your voice I can play it.

I can not hear my Mom’s voice any longer. I can barely hear Dad’s, but yours, I have forever. So you never have to worry buddy boy, I have you with me in my heart and spirit, even with your room looking so different.

I watered Al’s plants and I now have four open Peace Lilies open. You are alive brother dear. Whether I go into your room, or into your bathroom or even here in the living room, I see you everywhere.

So all paper work is properly filed. Soup is finishing cooking. It is dreary outside with a little chill. Only in the fifties today. It is going to rain. Spring flowers are blooming and the trees are budding.

Life is becoming new but for today, some things never change, and I am remembering you.

al-july-11-2Just looking at this photo brings a mass of tears. So this must end this post. I need to get up and find something else to do. Love you buddy.

24 thoughts on “One Month Since Al Passed, And I Walked a Forward Step Today

  1. Time we can never replace
    But we don’t have to forget
    While they might be gone
    The memories linger yet.

    Things that make you smile
    Remember those the best
    Those keep you warm inside
    You can let the others rest.

    You are in my thoughts, savor the soup and the memories.


  2. Dear Terry,
    I’ve not been online much and am so very sorry to see this post today. What a lovely way you have of keeping your much loved brother close and his memory alive. I’m so sorry for your loss. xoxoM


    • He does have a radio in there he used to listen to. I can do that and then the room will be less empty. Thank you for an excellent idea. You always know how to make me feel better AR. Love and hugs


  3. Oh your chicken dish sounds good and my mouth was watering just reading about it.
    Memories warm us in a way nothing else ever can.


  4. This is such a beautiful and heart wrenching tribute to your brother. No one prepares you for grief and mourning. Even if you have lived through it before it assaults with each person you must say goodbye to. This is a brave post. Thank you for sharing.


  5. Dear Terry,

    I have been depressed for a while and hiding on other forms of social media (as you’re probably aware) and have even been neglecting my emails – but when I saw this in my inbox I had to respond.

    I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when Al passed; I’m sorry that I was so shut in my own world that I never even noticed when it happened.

    I also wanted to tell you what a brave, strong woman you have been for Al for all these years. And now that he’s gone here you are, being strong for him again now that he’s gone. This post brought tears to my own eyes, but also a smile.

    Gemma xxx


    • I understand some of your depression and hiding. I have days where I want to hide here in my home and times I feel depressed. I force myself to write. Not only is it healing, it gives me an opportunity to stand up and speak for what I believe in. I believe in you Gemma. God doesn’t make mistakes. You are here for a reason, the same as me and Al were and are. Love u my friend


  6. You’ve beautifully penned your emotions here Terry, and I felt every one of them. I, too, wish I had documented some of my folks voice, and other treasures before they died. I do, however, have scanned hand prints of my mom and dads hands wearing their wedding rings, rings that were stolen right after they died. The pictures were playfully taken years ago when I got my first computer and scanner bed. Why I did that back then I don’t know… all I know is that I treasure those pictures. Weeks before my dad died he called here at the house, he left his usual message on my answering machine to call him back. Of course I returned the call asap. But later that evening my husband deleted all the messages, he didn’t normally do this. After dad died I had all kinds of regrets of my husband doing this, I still hear dad saying “I love you dear, please call me back when ever you can.” This words, along with the very last conversation I had with my mom while standing in her kitchen one day before she died, will always be branded in my thoughts of them. And above all the little tangible things that I posses that belonged to my folks, those words of endearment we shared are most cherished to this day.


    • You sound like a cloned me. I am the same way. I treasure all the little things that matter to no one else. I have my dad’s first artist brush. I made sure I had Al’s voice. Photos galore that will probably be passed to the winds after I pass. I am a very emotional woman who carries memories to my grave. Family is so important. I am glad for what I once was able to see and touch. Hugs Diane


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