SEVEN

another trip around the sun without you

some days i miss you

some days i really miss you

one thing that is certain is that your memory inspires me to be a better person...and your anniversary reminds me how much i am failing at that task

there is nothing i want more than to make you proud 

i have been struggling

i feel trapped in these four walls

i am a creature of habit...my routine is suffocating

how can i change this?

how can i expand and grow?

when will i finally stop allowing the number on the scale to define my self worth?

i think that is the only way things are going to change

Do you believe in Matt-gic?

The past week has been mentally and emotionally draining. I had three phone consultations with nutrition coaches, each of which lasted well over an hour. Those conversations touched on some of the things I have struggled with emotionally since the loss of my brother in 2016. I remarked that he would be so disappointed in me right now. That was one of the driving factors for wanting to make a change. It is time to start living again. It is time to start allowing myself to have enjoyable experiences. It is time to start recognizing that I deserve happiness.

My final phone consultation was on Monday evening and this woman ended up being my choice. Our conversation finished waaaaay past my bedtime so I quickly brushed my teeth, turned off the lights and crawled into bed. A few minutes later the room was lit and the light switch was in the “on” position. 

I don’t know what you believe or think but I know for a fact that was Matt. 

In that moment, the lights came on for me both figuratively and literally.

Rest and Digest

The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was on TV and my mom was crying. Thanksgiving marks the start of a rough stretch of months, the culmination of which is February 22nd, my brother’s birthday.

My parent’s had dinner at my cousin’s house. I spent the day in the company of animals...scooping litter boxes, walking dogs and feeding my furry friends.

Friday it poured rain, but the sun was shining on Saturday so I treated  my mom to a cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee and we went to the cemetery.  I asked if she wanted to pray and so we did...Hail Mary, Our Father, Glory Be...we said them out loud and at times her voice trailed off, full of emotion...I hugged her and told her that I love her.

On Sunday I had a surprise for her. McNaughton’s in Cherry Hill had resurrected the old Gaudio’s (G Boys) display that she took us to when we were kids. We walked through twice and then we saw Santa. It was perfect.

Right now my parents are in Texas visiting my nephew. I am thankful that his birthday is in the beginning of December because it provides them with a bright spot in an otherwise dark time.

Their absence has left me alone with these thoughts to digest. Tonight I was in the kitchen making dinner. The tree was lit and I was playing the Frank Sinatra Christmas album. It was Matt’s favorite. It made me sad for a minute, but then I felt him there standing next to me. I thought about all of the holidays that we stood in that kitchen together…so many memories...good ones.

an unexpected gift

last month i received a mailer from planet fitness that contained a coupon for a two week free trial of the black card membership.

black card members are permitted to bring a free guest with them every visit. i redeemed the offer on the 7th of December and told my dad that he was going to start coming to the gym with me at least once a week to use the lat pull down and seated row.

like everyone else in this forward facing society, my dad’s shoulders are starting to become rounded and he is noticeably hunched over. he lifts weights in the basemen, but there aren’t many exercises he can do at home to strengthen his back and bring those shoulders back to center.

the day before my trial membership ended he finally agreed to tag along with me...most likely because he had run out of excuses not to go.

i intentionally chose a time that would not be crowded to make the experience as pleasant as possible. i stopped by the house after work to pick him up. he was dressed in khaki shorts with a belt and a t-shirt, then proceeded to explain that he did not have sweat pants. many of the older men wear jeans to the gym and on top of that, his jeans are so loose that they fit like sweatpants anyway. i instructed him to change and we were on our way.

i showed him how to use three different types of pull downs and rows. he completed two sets of each, then we walked upstairs to look at the treadmills, which i assured him were just like the one we have at home...just push quick start...3.0 speed is the same here as the one we have in the basement. we finished on the stretch machine. it was a twenty minute visit.

on the way home we talked about plans to visit again. i let him know that i upgraded my membership as a christmas present for him and that he was welcome to come along any time he’d like, even if all he wanted to do that day was walk on the treadmill.

later on in the day my mom told me that she had asked him how it went. he said he had a good time and that he was looking forward to going back again.

in the eight years that i have been personal training, my father has been extremely resistant to anything i have tried to show him when it come to fitness.

when i asked him about going back again he told me he wanted it to be at a time when i could stay with him on the floor and teach him.

it turns out that i wasn’t the one giving him a gift at all...he is the one giving the gift to me.

joy

I haven’t been the same since you left.  

I have found myself in a place where all of the joy has been removed from my life. 

Some of it has been a conscious decision on my part (for financial reasons) but most of it happened unintentionally. 

Social media serves as a reminder that it has been over a year since I took a vacation. It has gotten to the point where I wouldn’t even know what to do for fun if I took time off. 

This weekend I will turn 45. New Hampshire serves as my default when it comes to getting away. It’s probably because that’s the only place I have traveled to in the last three years while completing the 4000 footers. 

It is easy to run away to the mountains, to be alone and hike for days on end. That is something I have become very good at doing. Then, I had a thought...maybe I should try something this year that isn’t easy...maybe I owe it to myself...maybe I should start searching for joy in some familiar places. 

And that was my decision. 
And it’s one that I am certain he would approve of. 

So I called up an old friend and invited myself to her beach house where I will sample some local beers and play pinball. I put air in the tires of my cyclocross bike, lubed the chain and searched for a few local races. I reached out to people. I made lunch plans for next week. I made dinner plans for next week. 

If I tackle all of those things great, but even if I accomplish only one it will be a step in the right direction.

the day i stopped living AKA a very dark place

i don’t know exactly when it happened. most likely it has been a slow, gradual process...one that goes unnoticed until you wake up one day and realize that you don’t know what day it is because all of your days are the same...a hamster on a wheel...rinse and repeat

one minute you are having your coffee and the next you’re turning down the sheets for bed. everything that happened between those two events is just a blur...and the days turn into weeks and the week turn into months and the next thing you know three years have passed

i never thought it would be smooth sailing after Matt died, but I also didn’t think it would lead me down this road...to a very dark place

some time between august 2016 and that day (whenever it was) i came to terms with the fact that i was tethered...that i would in fact be tethered until my presence here was no longer necessary...to put it bluntly, i am stuck here until my parents die

this realization has paralleled the grieving process...and in a way, it has required a separate grieving process of it’s own because it has left me feeling dead inside. i wouldn’t call it depression...it’s more just trying to learn how to manage the cards i have been dealt

i want to tell you something...i have a plan for the future...my dream is to buy a travel trailer and work for the hospitality company that operates in several of the national parks...i will live in the travel trailer...and part of the year i will work in one park (like the grand canyon) and the other part of the year i will work in another (like glacier)...i will live simply and encounter people from all over the world. it will be a great adventure. i am hopeful.

oh those Wildwood days...

When you’re eleven years old, the drive to Wildwood feels like an eternity. 

In the late 80’s my mom drove a sandalwood Ford Taurus station wagon with a seat that popped up in what we called “the back back.” It was the premium spot for long journeys like the one to the Jersey Shore so we had to take turns sitting there.

Growing up, we didn’t go on vacation like most families. My father worked all the time so it was my mother who took us on short trips to visit my grandmother and her two sisters who spent the summer in Wildwood.

Helen, Sis and Ann rented a small two bedroom apartment at the Sunnyside Motel on 13th and Surf. When the three of us arrived it was definitely close quarters. One double bed, two twin beds and a fold out sofa allowed just enough room for the six of us.

Upon our arrival I'd walk a few blocks to the Little Giant Market for a loaf of bread and a game of Donkey Kong. My grandmom always made sure we were well fed and had a good time. Pizza at Mack’s, Curley’s Fries, Sea Shell Ice Cream and Samuel’s Pancakes were all consumed on a daily basis. On occasion we would have to get fancy and go to Ed Zaberers or Duffy’s on the Lake, but she also made sure she treated us to a day at Raging Waters Water Park as well as several rounds of miniature golf at Hassles.

We would hit the beach, but never for more than a few hours. My brother and I both preferred the boardwalk, not for the rides but for the games. Each night we’d spend our allowance playing games and earning tickets, which we’d cash in for prizes. Sometimes we’d spend an entire summer saving for one big item like a Sony Watchman. Inevitably there would be a surplus after attaining said item which left us with a plethora or trinkets like Chinese finger traps and plastic kazoos.

My mom always felt better about us spending our money on something that would yield us something rather than waste it on the crane game, which we did play our fair share of, especially the summer when the coveted prize was a large white plastic mug with a California Raisins logo printed on it.

On the last day of our visit we would go to the boardwalk and stock up on fudge and saltwater taffy before making the long trip home during which I would listen to one of the two cassettes I owned, Bruce Springsteen Born in the USA or the Beach Boys Greatest hits Volume 1. 

I’m happy to reminisce on these times, but sad for the reason I have done it on the past two anniversaries of my brother’s passing. They say a picture is worth a thousand memories, but I think that just one memory is worth thousands more.

maintenance

About a year ago I contacted someone to calculate my macros. She asked me to answer some questions and take some photographs. A few days later, my numbers (proteins, fats and carbs) were returned to me.

In order to lose weight one must eat below a certain number of calories per day.

In order to gain weight one must eat above a certain number of calories per day.

That number is called “maintenance.”

Since dropping the last few stubborn pounds I have been sitting at maintenance...nothing above, nothing below...a flat line.

With that comes a certain degree of predictability, which suited me well during the months following my brother’s death. It allowed for structure during a time when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. I am grateful for that.

Looking back, it is clear that I’ve been maintaining in more than one facet of my life.

I recently purchased a t-shirt. It has a donut on it (anyone who knows me knows the way I feel about donuts) and it says “Bulking Like a Boss.” I started lifting heavier, eating more and running less.

I am ready to move past maintenance.




“We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be."
-May Sarton

subtraction

Occasionally, I need to access the printer which is located in my dad’s office. His desk is an absolute mess, littered with piles, papers and notes. 

The one that caught my eye most recently was his “daily schedule” which includes exercise, reading and meditation. It seems as though he is trying to incorporate some healthy practices into his life. That is admirable. What I don’t think he realizes is that well being is all about finding a balance. 

You can add a million positive things to your life but if you don't remove the negative ones you'll continue to spin your wheels.

the lucky ones

I just made my father cry. I didn’t mean to, but there was something that he needed to hear, whether he liked it or not. My delivery is not always the best, but my intentions are usually good.

Tomorrow would have been my brother’s 39th birthday. My parents will spend the day together, most likely doing something to help them forget the pain that comes with the loss of a child. I will spend the day alone, doing something to remember him (which will probably involve a trip to Wawa).

Last month, my dad made the decision (for no good reason) that he was “done with” his sister. I’ve heard my parents discuss this a couple times in recent weeks because it has put my mom an awkward position.

Tonight he was sitting in his chair and we were talking about tomorrow. He reminded me that it was Matt’s birthday. I told him that I knew and that Matt had been on my mind a lot lately. I went on to say this...I don’t know what you have going on with Aunt Barbara, but you are lucky to have a sister. I wish I had a brother. I’d give anything to have him back right now.

If you’re reading this and you have a sibling, consider yourself fortunate. Take the opportunity to let them know that.

Happy Birthday Matt

memory lane

I’m listening to the Frank Sinatra Christmas Album. I remember playing the CD at our Christmas Eve open house, long before music could be streamed on sites like Pandora. My brother took a liking to it, which meant that during the month of December I’d routinely go hunting for it in his room. Christmas was his favorite holiday. 

This year seems to be a bit easier on my Mom. A couple weeks ago we took PATCO to Philly and saw the light show at Macy’s. The house is decorated a little bit. She even asked my dad to put up some lights outside. He declined, which leads me to believe that he is struggling right now. 

I am starting to realize that new people will constantly enter my life, unaware. This could result in awkwardness when asked about my holiday. It has become just another day. 

Today I was thinking about the holiday visits we would make to relatives during the week between Christmas and New Years. My brother and I always dreaded visiting my Father’s Aunt and Uncle. Their house was so boring, but they always gave us a crisp ten dollar bill, which made it worth it. The year we both received a Game Boy definitely made that visit much easier. 

The thing that I am the most sad about this year is that I don’t have anyone to reminisce with about these things. The thing that I am the most thankful for this year is that I have these memories, even if I can no longer share them with him.

the dichotomy of grief

A couple weeks ago I received a text. It said something to the effect of “I know we haven’t kept in touch recently but...” I didn’t respond, but did acknowledge the message in my own way, which is more than most people would have done. 

It’s remarkable, the way in which people can process a similar event (losing a family member at a young age) in completely different ways. 

I share this common thread with two people in my life. In one instance it has brought us closer together. In one it has driven us apart. 

I don’t know when the grieving process ends, if ever, but I do know that my experience with it has brought me closer to some people. It has also driven others out of my life completely...and that is my own choice...and right now, I am ok with the decisions that I have made.

the day my brother died

On the day my brother died I was working at the gym. I had a few minutes between clients to make a quick call to my mom. I was in touch with her several times a day to get status updates. The one I received the previous night indicated that his vitals were good and there was no need to change my Friday flight to Texas. That was not the case on Wednesday morning. She told me that if I wanted to see him that I had better come right away. 

I hung up the phone and booked a flight for that evening. I made arrangements for Hazel to be picked up and boarded. I got changed, packed my bag and pedaled home to pack. 

The next several hours were a blur…and then I was on the ground in Austin, TX. My parents picked me up and we made a quick stop at the grocery store before heading to the house. We were half way home when my mom’s phone rang. It was Mart (Matt’s father in law). Everyone had been taking turns staying over night at the hospice. Wednesday was Mart’s night. I answered the phone...Matt’s dying you had better come right away...

I will never forget those words. 

He was already gone by the time we arrived. My mom said she had a feeling that Mart was going to be the one there with him. I had a feeling that he waited until he knew I was there with my parents. 

In many ways August 17, 2017 is more difficult than August 17, 2016. A full year of holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and memories have passed without him...365 sunsets. 

I still keep his final text on my phone...just wish we had more time...

I Drive Your Truck

It took me to Mount Bonnell where I sat and drank coffee on Saturday morning, then to the playground where I chased around your little boy. He looks just like you. 

From there, it was on to some of my favorite places, which I discovered when I visited you. 

While standing in line for a taco I met a mother and son from Philadelphia. I stumbled on my words as I tried to explain what I was doing in Austin, then found myself in a lie...”Oh yes, my brother likes it here.” It was much easier than telling the truth. 

A new brewery (Lazarus Brewing Company) opened around the corner from Veracruz, so I went to check it out. The man sitting next to me (Christian) was the owner. His path to Austin came via Montana and Philadelphia, so we immediately struck up a conversation. The brewery was his third career. His first was in IT and his second was as a Presbyterian Minister. 

He mentioned that he had started a church (All Souls) that reaches out to those with doubts and questions about their faith, which prompted me to ask about the significance of the name “Lazarus.” In scripture, Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead...so to him, Lazarus is a symbol of life.  

When he finished his story I decided to share mine. I told him about you. He listened...he wanted to know your name...he asked all of the right questions. It was exactly the conversation I needed to be having with someone. 

Before leaving, I told him that at your memorial, the priest who gave the eulogy said that you had left us so soon because you had done everything you needed to do here on earth...but I didn’t believe that, not for one second. You are still here, doing wonderful things, even now. 

Thank you for letting me drive your truck.

the third month

March was a month full of sadness and it passed quickly. Usually, those days drag on without end. It is nearly the end of April and I find myself looking back, wondering where the time went.

My mom lost her best friend to pancreatic cancer. On weekends, I drove her to the hospital in Philadelphia so she could visit with her before she passed. 

She also learned that her sister’s fiancé has stage three bone cancer. Cancer is never an easy diagnosis to process, but this is the second time my aunt will have to do so. She lost her first husband to cancer several years ago.

These things are weighing heavy on my mom’s heart. I can feel it.

A few days of rain can make it seem like the sun is never going to shine again. It was late in the day when the clouds finally broke so I decided to take the long way home. Turning off of Route 70, I noticed a big ass bird (yes, that is the technical name) in the sky. It continued to fly West, the same direction I was traveling, until I lost it in the sunset.

Even though you're not here with me, you are still all around. You are in the sun, the moon and the stars at night. Thank you for letting me know that. It helped me to make it through the third month.

HelloFresh

You've been gone for five months.

Dad is depressed. Most days he sits in his chair and watches TV. Some days he just sits there in silence. Those days are occurring more frequently and it’s painful to witness. It has gotten to the point where I feel uncomfortable being around him.

Last week I called mom upstairs and closed the door...Dad is depressed. It’s starting to get really bad. You are at work for most of the day so you don’t see it. She told me that when they were out to dinner the other night, someone had asked him what he had been up to lately and he told them that since you died he hasn’t had the motivation to do anything.

I showed her the website for “HelloFresh” and explained the way it works. I got dad a gift subscription to try for a month. The food will be delivered and he can follow the recipes. This will give him something to do three days out of the week.

I came across this feather when I was walking the dog yesterday. That’s how I know you thought it was a good idea too.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come

The phone rang last Thursday night. I didn’t recognize the number so I didn’t answer. A woman began to leave a message. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but then I heard the words “Nancy” and “Ambulance.” My mom passed out at Zumba class and was vomiting. When I arrived, the paramedics had her on a stretcher and were preparing to take her to the hospital.

My dad took the keys to her car and drove to the hospital. I sat in my car...and then it hit me...I was alone. Usually, an event like this would be followed up with a call to my brother. We would talk about our parents and their health. He never felt good about living so far away from them, but took comfort in the fact that I was here.

This is the first Christmas without Matt. Something tells me that every Christmas from now on will not be the same. It’s something that I can’t explain. It’s something you would not understand unless you’ve lost someone this way. It’s something I hope you don’t ever have to experience.

What I said...

If someone were to ask my twelve year old self to name one thing that I have in common with my brother I’d be hard pressed to give a response. Even in my early twenties I’d struggle to answer that question.

Matt was intelligent, musically inclined and athletic...fashionable, good looking and popular...he was everything I was’t.

We became closer with age. From girls to guns, yoga to camping we learned that we had much more in common than our dislike of cheese (except of course, on pizza).

In August of 2012 we had the opportunity to share our mutual love for the outdoors, spending 10 days together at Glacier National Park. The memories we made on that trip are held close to my heart. 

Three months later, Matt had an emergency appendectomy and was diagnosed with cancer.

We kept in touch through emails, text, phone calls and visits. 

This year on his birthday I even sent him a good old fashioned letter...

If you’re reading this then that means I actually sent it.

Today is your birthday. Hopefully it was a better day for you than last year, which you spent in the hospital.

I’m glad that we had a chance to talk the last time I visited. It seems like you have made some sort of peace with your diagnosis. Perhaps that isn’t the best choice of words, but it’s all that comes to mind right now. You are doing the best you can with the hand you have been dealt. I admire you for that.

When we were growing up you were the fragile one. Mom always felt the need to protect you. Now, all I can see is your strength...and I am sure that I don’t even know half of what you have been through the last three and a half years.

The other day someone asked me how I was doing with all of this. Honestly, I haven’t processed it yet. I know that I worry about Mom and that my heart aches for Cliff...but I also know that the time we have right now is a gift...an opportunity to you show just how much I love you.

Keep fighting.

I made no attempt to conceal the emotional roller coaster our family has been on for the past four years. The journey has been well documented with titles such as “no peace” “pain cave” and “life, unfiltered.”

Life, unfiltered...this was the way Matt lived. He did not allow his diagnosis to define him. It was important for him to stay active and to keep working. 

His outlook was embodied in the words of one of my favorite quotes by Vivian Green, "Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass...it’s about learning to dance in the rain."

And now, for the unscripted part...

Matthew passed away peacefully late on the night of August 17th. The next day I asked my friends to watch the sunset with me and to share a photo of that sunset. I received close to 150 pictures from about 20 different states and created a slideshow (below). 

I have grown tired of hearing the words "I am sorry for your loss" because I did not lose anything. Matthew is still here with me. I see him in the setting sun each night.

a different kind of hard

the kind they don’t tell you about

maybe it’s because there are no words to describe it
maybe because it’s not the same for everyone

it’s when you are angry but at peace; you are sad but happy

the memories that flash...the times you want to pick up the phone...the tears that fall on your pillow when you are trying to sleep at night

one month

it hasn’t gotten any easier

it’s just a different kind of hard

outlier

It was never in question...I will be giving the eulogy at Matt’s memorial service. Finding the right words hasn't come as easy as I had hoped. There are so many memories and stories to piece together, none of which are resulting in a neatly packaged finish project.

Growing up, my brother and I had very little in common. As adults we discovered our similarities, one of which was a love for the outdoors. My recent trip to Glacier was bittersweet because my favorite memories with Matt were on those trails.

I wanted to speak about this at his service, but the pieces didn’t fit. 

Friday July 29th was our last exchange...

I thought of you when I hiked to Grinnell Glacier today. I remember that you initially weren’t  going to go up  but you changed your mind and were glad you did. The glacier is even smaller than when we were there. I am thankful that we had the chance to take that trip Montana. I realized that even though mom and dad never took us to do this type of stuff we both ended up enjoying it which is pretty cool.

Thanks. I’m really glad we got to do it too. Just wish we had more time to do it again. Looks like you’re having fun. We can talk about it the next time you’re around.

We never got to have that conversation. I wish we had more time.