I flew to New Mexico with Glenna on April 24th to be with my Mom and my oldest brother, Mark.
My brother, Boyd, had died the day before from what we suspect was not a heart attack, but an Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm (AAA). He was 46 years old. Grief is having its way with all of us - mostly fine, but suddenly extremely sad. I've noticed I don't really want to participate in much and have to force myself to do things. I know I look normal on the outside, but on the inside I'm still dealing with it. My friends and family are so gracious. I know none of them have expectations that I'm disappointing. Bless them.
The world doesn't stop. That can be a good thing.
There was no service for my brother. Funerals are so hard on my Mom and she tends to avoid them. Instead, we just gathered and grieved together; crying, laughing, and remembering. We tried to figure out the puzzle that was Boyd and come to terms with his brief sojourn on this earth. Mostly, we loved on each other and were inseparable the entire visit. It was so, so good.
The pictures I have to share may seem strange for a grieving family, but to us they make perfect sense. Know that we are at peace - we're just so very sad and it's still so surreal.
You can ask me about him; there's no need to avoid the topic or feel awkward about what to say to me.
His name was George Boyd H., and he had the most beautiful green eyes you've ever seen.