on life and beyond.

and then, of course, things come up. you get bad news that rocks you to your core, affects you from the inside out, changes the way you experience life. 

i lost a family member this week, one who i hadn’t seen in years. my head and heart are flooded with memories of us when we were little and growing up together. we were all merely seeds of the humans we would grow up to be, and we looked to each other to assist us in our discovery. i remember peter’s red hair, his tiny hand holding my even smaller one as he led me around the yard searching for easter eggs. i remember resting my head on his shoulder as i pretended to sleep in the back seat of the car. i remember the picnic we had at mount rainier. i remember visiting him in the hospital, speaking to him on the phone, and praying, praying, praying for him. 

it has been a long time since we spent time together, but he is undeniably a part of my chemistry, an integral and influential part of my childhood. there are no relationships more intimate than the ones you create and foster with family members as a child, and i’m so thankful i got to grow up with peter. i’m thankful to have the opportunity to celebrate his life and mourn his passing with my family this weekend. i’m thankful i’ll be able to give my uncle steve, peter’s father, a hug, to remind him how incredible he is, how how kind and loving and good. 

life is unfair. tragedies present themselves, often when we are at our weakest, when we truly believe we have passed our capacity for pain, for hurting. we are forced to tap into the deepest recesses of ourselves, the buried strength we didn’t even know was there. my uncle is one of the most resilient humans i’ve ever known, and his faith in the universe and in god is unbreakable. i’m praying hard that life brings him peace, that he moves forward from this heartbreak, and that his life becomes one that is filled to the brim with happiness. 

i’m taking this moment to remind the people i care about that i love them, to thank them for their support, compassion, and willingness to be there for me and my family through and through. i would be nothing without them and i’m eternally humbled and grateful.

rest in peace, dear peter. we miss you.