There is Sweetness in the Sad

Indulge me for a minute while I think about my big brother.

I'm supposed to be reading for class, and I have a million things to do..but I just want to chat about him for awhile...

He woud've been 27 today.

This is his last birthday - it was a good one as you can see :)

He only made it to 16, but today should've been 27.

With each passing year, his birthday gets a little less aggressively painful, but it always hurts. What I can't get out of my mind today is who he might be if he was still alive.
That Kenny Chesney song came to mind first thing this morning, and I've been pondering it since:

Who would you be?
I imagine you'd be married. I'd probably be an aunt by now - maybe 2 or 3 times. I totally would've been the best aunt! Even as a child I had dreamed of being an aunt. Aunt Amber. Has a nice ring :)
It started when Aunt Cindy sent me that surprise box of goodies for my 12th birthday. At 12 years old, I began planning what I would do for my own nieces/nephews one day.
And you would've been an excellent uncle to my children.   Uncle Russell. :) My heart floods a little just thinking that.

I think we would've been really good friends by now. We were weird,  ya know,  because we always liked each other. We were never those fighting siblings that couldn't stand to be in the same room. We were always friends.
I imagine adding some years, maturity, and memories to that would have resulted in a really sweet friendship by now.

Yes...some added maturity would certainly have strengthened the bond... ;)

Memories -  like our college graduations, first jobs, marriages (my speech at your rehearsal dinner totally would've made you cry), babies.
Memories we should've had. Memories we didn't get to have.

That's something I've learned. Death isn't a one-time loss. It's a loss of every memory you should have been a part of. That's why it never completely stops hurting. That's why time and space, while giving us room to heal, can never completely heal - because the loss transcends all the years you should've been there.

Because you died in high school, I can't help but look at your classmates and our friends. Sometimes I feel like everyone's grandmother because of how proud I am of everyone. Ha!
Our high school friends - they're grown now. We're all grown now. Some are teachers, some are farmers, some own businesses, some have moved, some are married, some are parents.  -- Some of our classmates even married each other(!) and had babies (!) and they're precious. :) It's so fun to see everyone's lives progressing.
There's a gap, though, where you should have been.

I wonder what you would've named your babies. I'm naming mine after you.
Russell Andrew Barnes, your first nephew will be named Andrew.
(side note: not pregnant)

I wonder what career path you would've chosen? Engineering? Navy Seal?
I bet engineering. I bet you'd be living somewhere like Memphis working in engineering. Maybe..

I bet you'd still go to the gym regularly, but I bet I would also be making fun of any slight tummy pudge your years had put on you. :)
I am certain I would be mercilessly reminding you that you were now only 3 years from 30. hehe

I miss you big brother. Deeply.
Usually this day brings all sorts of emotions. I usually resort to secondary emotions of anger and spend a while asking God why He took you? I usually feel a little desperate, like a caged animal, hostile and trapped.
Those, though, are all secondary emotions. I probably felt those rather than feeling the deep and penetrating sadness that mourns a loss, because I thought anger was easier than sadness.

But today, I simply miss you. I simply feel sad. And I'm surprised to find that it's kind of a sweet feeling - because I can't feel this sad without also feeling how much I love you. In that regard, my tears feel like a hug.

(I know right? We're adorable.)

In that regard, I am simultaneously mourning you and enjoying you - enjoying you much more than in years before when I all I allowed myself to feel was anger.

"You won't ever grieve if you never love. But to avoid grief means you will avoid love."

I feel the meaning of that quote so profoundly today. My grief is an overflow of love, and because that love will never diminish, the grief will always be present.
But that's okay. I can feel this sadness and this love -- and it's okay.
I think that means I'm getting stronger :)
Or really, I think it means I've finally started drawing from the right source of strength. I'm not mad at God anymore. Not once today did I offer up any sort of angry thoughts, prayers, or scorning towards Him. Instead I asked for His comfort and found rest in His love.

He loves you even more than I do, and because of Him, I can rest in your condition, your eternity. You're with Him.

So, I wonder who you'd be today if you were still on earth. I miss you and I mourn. But that's okay.
It really is. Because in the mourning, I'm wrapped in love - mine for you, God's for me, and God's for you.

Happy birthday, Russell

I love you