Saturday, May 28, 2011

I Found My Neosporin

I turned 23, and I was absolutely happy about my life. I have great friends and family who celebrated my birthday with me, and I just felt great. 

However, sometimes I question my happiness and wonder why I have simply gone back to “normal.” After going through pain and heartache last summer, how did I regain the strength to continue my life? What happened in the summer of 2010 felt like a movie…a soap opera with improbable plots. I didn’t think I would go through such an emotional beating within 2 short months. I had never been to a funeral for a loved one before. That summer, I attended 2. 

I was at work on a Saturday morning, and I had volunteered to work at the Special Olympics later that day. I was going through yet another serious drama with my ex-fiancé. Heartbroken and frustrated, I tried to keep my focus on my work. I received a call from my sister at around 7:30 AM. In a desperate tone, she told me that she had found my brother’s body in the garage. “What?” I replied and quickly hung up before she could answer. I turned to my co-worker, Carmen. Confused, I told her what had happened, and Carmen told me to ask my sister if my brother was dead. I called my sister again to confirm, and she told me that my brother’s body was cold, and that the police and ambulance were already at the house.

My brother passed away on June 12, 2010, and he was buried on father’s birthday, June 15. I had to return to work the very next day. For some reason, I wanted to go to my parents’ house the night before my brother died, and I had fallen asleep on their couch. I woke up later that night because my brother came downstairs and talked to me, thinking I was my sister. He went back to his room before I could say anything to him, and I felt the urge to go after him. However, still half-asleep, I groggily got up and decided to drive home. I don’t know if God wanted me to talk to my brother that night, but I also don’t know what I could have said to him to save him.

Less than two months later, on August 2, I received an urgent Facebook message from my friend’s sister. “Lily, this is Diana, Bryan’s sister. Please call me ASAP. It’s important.” I had called out sick from work that day, so I had the time to call Diana as soon as I got her message. I asked her what was wrong. In a desperate tone that was similar to my sister’s, Diana told me that her brother had passed away. My first response was, “What?” She told me what had happened, and I promised to come to her house as soon as possible. It was déjà vu. Bryan died on Monday, and his funeral was that Friday. Just when I thought I was starting to heal from the loss of my brother, God poured salt into my wounds. I needed a Neosporin, and God handed me a salt shaker. 

When I lost my brother and Bryan, I was also emotionally afflicted by my relationship with my ex, my never-ending fight against early stage of cervical cancer, and my distrust of the people around me. I was bitter, depressed, angry, frustrated, and insecure. The dimpled smile that I was known for was rarely there because I didn’t have a reason to smile.

I don’t know how I did it, but I eventually moved on. Maybe I just got tired of being miserable because that isn’t me. I went back to school, received my degree, and revived my love life. I began spending time with my friends again. I had a difficult summer last year, but I resumed my life because I have goals to accomplish. A bad day can discourage me, but a brand new day is only 24 hours away.


Post a Comment