It was to tell me that at aged 45 (the same age as I am now) my brother in law had suddenly and unexpectedly died.
It's so hard to comprehend when you get news like that. We had spent the previous afternoon in my garden laughing and playing with my children. My sister was 6 months pregnant with their first child.
I don't normally do re-post posts (although I may link from time to time) but today I wanted, in memory of Mario to re-post this one I wrote a while ago for WoW.
There have been many posts in recent days on my blog reading list talking about loss, mental health issues and suicide. The R U OK day in Australia has been incredibly effective in bringing people together to share stories and offer advice and help.
I read a post this morning by Kristin at Wanderlust regarding the death of her elderly Aunt. One sentence jumped out at me, she said:
"When you lose someone, you don't ever get back the opportunity to do what you wished you had done."
I'm not sure there is anything I would have done differently regarding Mario, he knew how much he was loved, I don't have any regrets. But it did make me think. In the past few months two young children in this area, one the same age as my son and from the same school have died in tragic accidents. A friend I was very close to in my early years at school died. Someone I didn't know well but saw nearly every day as I walk my dog died.
I possibly am feeling a little morbid today. I wish I could change things for all of those people and their families. None of them had had the chance to fulfil their lives completely in the way they may have expected which is why today, more than most, I have this urge to not waste time, to tell the people I love how much I care, to not let difficulties stand in my way. To not WASTE any more time!
To be happy and to remember that while, "When you lose someone, you don't ever get back the opportunity to do what you wished you had done." every moment leading up to that IS an opportunity to fulfil that wish.
I Remember Mario
I remember the look of pride and sheer joy in his eyes as he placed his hand on her swollen stomach. ‘My little Piranha’ he said.
They smiled at the private joke, sharing a moment of complete happiness amid the chaos and noise of a family get together.
The plate of food lay forgotten on the table as he crouched down to talk to the young boy playing with his Action Man
.
Seeing her brother being paid so much attention caused the little girl to forget her shyness of this big man with the big voice. She toddled towards him and gently touched his face, ‘kiss’ she said as she lent forward and placed her lips where her fingers had been.
He looked at me and smiled. ‘This is what it’s all about’ he said without words, ‘this is who I was meant to be’.
When the phone call came early the next morning it made no sense at all. Years have passed and it still makes no sense.
He never met his beautiful girl. She didn’t get to kiss his cheek.
But while she may not have her own memories, as long as I remember, she will have mine.
5 comments:
So sad but so beautifully written. It made me cry and then think I should call my brothers. They're in their 40s and I would be devastated to lose one of them. How is it even possible? But it is.
So sorry, Sarah Mac. I'm sending a hug your way.
Love to you and yours Sarah Mac, I have an inkling about the heartache you have endured. "He never met his beautiful girl. She didn’t get to kiss his cheek.
But while she may not have her own memories, as long as I remember, she will have mine." Beautiful writing. xxx
Sarah, that was a beautiful piece of writing.
I'm sure his little girl appreciates you sharing such lovely memories of her father.
Bless you xx
Beautiful Sarah, just beautiful.
Thank you all.
Mario was a very special person and 10 years on he is still very much missed.
It does make you want to hold on to those you love just that little bit tighter Catherine and, like I said, to not waste time. We only come this way once there is nothing more important than telling the people we love how much they mean to us.
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