My First Solo Adventure

Mother’s day this year has brought out a new sense of sadness into our family and haziness to a once bright day full of trips to the zoo, breakfast in bed, and handwritten cards with drawings of intricate flowers once made by my brother and myself in our early youth. Since I’ve been able to hold a pen writing has been my passion and so every year I’ve written my mother a card on her day of celebration. My brother on the other hand is the artist of the family and while I would attempt an illustration for her, he would excel.

This year, mothers day fell two days after my eighteenth birthday and as many dreamers do, I made plans to leave my childhood home and my mother behind as I set out on my very first solo adventure only three days after my transition to adulthood. Only after, of course cooking dinner with my mom, getting a beautiful flowering rhododendron to plant in the yard, and giving her my annual mothers day card. But this year instead of my older brother Michael tagging along with us throughout the day, being goofy as he’d dance to songs far too vulgar to play in the presence of our mother, it was just my mother and me. Just two months ago we lost our artist.

My brother died on a Saturday in late March of this year, leaving behind only memories and the questions that a family cannot avoid having after the passing of a twenty year old by his own hands. Devastation does not begin to describe the feelings of my heart as I continue to grieve the loss of his body. How my life stopped the second that his did. Yet, life must go on even as his life fades away and the sun does not stop shinning it's condescending rays, the plants do not stop growing like my young brother did, and somehow the world does not stop spinning although it begins to feel as if its spinning far too fast. My family lost our young artist and so it fell upon me to write something beautiful for my mother before I left, knowing that it will forever remain half a card without my brother's art to shine beside it.

As I sat down to write to her I felt my brother beside me, channeling himself into me, coming out through the tip of my pen, bleeding out onto the paper. We were beside each other once more only this time we were not bonded through any physical means, only the deep love for our mother. Together we wrote to her about how she has been an inspiration to the both of us. A woman of great strength that we observed through her fight for my brother's life the last few years as he swerved through his teenage ups and downs, through sobriety and it's eventually crash, through bright laughs and late night ambulance rides. She remained by his side through all of it, put our family before herself, loved us unconditionally. Love is just strength in hiding, to give all of yourself to something, that is true strength as it is true and undying love.

Together we wrote to her about her sense of adventure and how she inspired us to live like tomorrow doesn’t exist because today is all that is promised. We witnessed her midlife crisis which was not a crisis but a transformation from a single mother to a sudden passion for the outdoors. She took up rock climbing, kayaking, backpacking, and camping as we eagerly followed her into the woods, in complete awe of our beautifully wild mother. She taught us that money means nothing if it’s not spent and spent on experience instead of material possessions. Memories are all that we bring with us when we die and my brother's mental suitcase was filled to the brim with them.

After my brother passed on from this life my mother gave his friends the beautiful gift of a funeral that all were allowed to attend. People came in from all over the country to say their goodbyes to his body and send their love with his soul out into the universe. The funeral home was filled beyond capacity but no one could resist. Even in her own grieving she held his friends in her arms, listened to their stories, allowed them to hold onto his possessions that had suddenly gone from simple clothes to precious artifacts. I realized that our mother did not have two children but dozens and I was more than happy to share her big and beautiful heart. She has been generous and amazingly kind to the people he loved even as many others rightfully close up in their mourning. Even as I shut down, she opened herself up to all those around her, allowing them to feel her love.

My mother inspired us in countless ways throughout our lives. She taught us to have strength and to fight for the people we love no matter the cost because any day could be the last. She taught us about adventure and how it brings meaning to our lives, how it awakens the soul and deepens the mind. The most important lesson that she taught us is kindness and compassion and how it can heal our own wounds. Love restores the breaks of the heart and is a remedy for any disease of the mind if only we can open ourselves up to it. Giving does not have to be a burden and it takes away only heartache from the soul and pressure from the mind. To give is to experience true harmony within ourselves. My mother taught us these things somehow without ever verbalizing them in so many words. I am inspired by her and determined to have the strength that she has.

Now as I leave home to experience the world with fresh, eighteen year old eyes I am scared of being without my mom. I am moving to California, a state that my brother visited far more often then we ever really knew. We got a call from him once, stranded out there, asking for help getting home after we had assumed he was at a friends house mere miles down the road. He carried our mother's sense of adventure with him. He wanted to live like tomorrow didn't exist and for him "tomorrow" was never in the cards as his life was taken tragically away. I now approach my life with the same sense of urgency and so I am ready to go out into the world and explore as he did. Still part of my heart pulls me to stay where my family is, partially out of the guilt of leaving them without children as no parent should ever have to be without a child. Though mostly I want to remain here out of fear for what will come of my future.

Despite my fear, I cannot turn my back on this journey. To keep me safe my brother has given me his strength, his passion, and his art in passing. I plan to make art of my life through my words and through my love as our mother has done. Today I do not mourn his loss, today I am grateful for his life and I’m grateful for being my mothers child. I have big shoes to fill now that my brother has transitioned to the next stage of existence yet I know without a doubt that no matter what I do, I will have my mothers unconditional love behind me and her strength when mine runs out. I have been blessed to have learned so many incredible lessons from my mom and she teaches me more everyday. For that I believe myself to be the luckiest person in the world and there won't be a day that passes where I don't thank the universe for my many blessings. I love you mom, you'll forever be my adventure partner and my greatest gift.