The beauty of blogs are that you can bookmark dates and then write as though you were writing from that date, only at a later date. I have no idea why that is important other than I wouldn't want the 18th to pass by without having written from that vantage point. Strange and stupid, isn't it?
I have had several dreams about my brother. In fact, I woke up on the 18th having a bizarre dream that I was carrying his body on my back. He wasn't alive and had shrunken in size, almost like he was at a younger age in life. His eyes were closed and I was to register his body with some kind of office. This would allow me to carry him around with me and have him close to me.
There was another woman who was also carrying a loved one on her back. We were like medical students studying the dead, only we weren't going to dissect the corpses; we were only to have them close to us and somehow learn from them for a time.
The year and a half felt for me like a milestone of sorts. The first year was definitely the hardest and going into the second year is hard in a different way. There is pressure to be normal in an already abnormal society. There is pressure to move forward in a society that denies death, funds deadly wars and at the same time attempts to deny us the ability to connect with the history that brought us to this present.
This is what we have to take the time to do. This is what will keep us moving forward.
