One year after my brother died I had to write something, do something. I didn't know what-but it had to be something. I sat down at my computer and began to write. It was published in our local paper-June 4th 2004-exactly one year later. It had to be short-but it had to open eyes...this is what came out.
It's June 4th 2004, and my family gathers. My brother's friends come to visit (an ever-present sight of teenagers in our house is nothing new). We light fireworks, we eat pizza, we barbeque, we laugh. It's what any regular group of people does on a Friday night. We tell stories, we share memories; remembering things we'd forgotten about, and laughing - sometimes laughing so hard we cry, or crying until someone makes us laugh. The difference this time is that my brother isn't here to share his memories with us.
We are gathering for something we shouldn't have to.
This day is significant to all of us for different reasons, but we gather for the same purpose. We gather to celebrate the life of a brother, a son, a friend, a nephew, a cousin, a grandson. To honor the life of someone who meant so much to each of us.
My brother committed suicide. A topic that is shrouded with gasps of horror, stares of disbelief, those who turn their heads in avoidance for the lack of knowing what to say, and the inevitable rumors. For a year I struggled with whether or not to correct the rumors but now have reconciled myself to knowing that those who need to, know the story.
Rumors circulate, and while it's extremely disheartening, I need to remember that people have to come up with their own reason to explain this, however untrue, and that is their way of dealing with my brother's death. Fortunately there are many who have shown our family understanding, compassion, support and respect. To them we are grateful.
What I have learned this year is that people who commit suicide aren't the people you "expect". There is not one single personality that this happens to. It is not always those who struggle with mental illness. It is not always the teenager struggling with addiction. It is not always the girl who has been bullied for years.
Sometimes it is the kid with all the energy in the world, with a loving family and a large group of friends. It's not always the kid who gets in trouble everyday at school. Sometimes it's the kid that simply struggled, and very few ever took the time to really understand how truly gifted, creative and intellegent that kid was. Sometimes it's the kid who is impulsive and fearless.
There is not one category, not one personality, not one class in society, not one type of intellegence. Its not always those who are depressed.
It's in the faces of people we see everyday and sometimes you just never discover the reason why.
So, on this day, on this one year anniversary without my little brother, I want to briefly share what he was really like.
I want to remember how many good times our family had, too many to count-just how many times he made us laugh.
How thoughtful he was.
A person who found the goodness in everyone, seeing that each person had value and worth and deserved to be treated that way.
A person who didn't go along with the crowd, but one who the crowd followed.
A person who was spontaneous and fearless.
A person gifted with friendships that most people in this life never experience.
Someone with amazing talent to sing, and write, who loved good music.
A person whose eyes danced when he was excited, and who laughed the most infectious laugh you've ever heard.
A person who could make the ugliest milkweed seem beautiful.
Someone who loved walking in the rain, especially in the middle of a storm.
Someone who loved nature and felt secure in the most remote places: an adventurer, and explorer.
A person who carried so much light in his eyes, he could make a room stop.
A really, truly amazing soul.
James-I will raise my glass to you on this day, knowing that for 17 years I was gifted with the funniest, most talented, generous, handsome, loving brother I could ever ask for, and you are so very alive in the hearts of all the friends and family that you've touched.
May you always be in our laughter and in our tears, and may we never forget how blessed we were to have you.
So-to our James Hugh Tisdall- We love you. We miss you. Shine on.
