If he was still here.

For most people, every March 17th is a day to wear green and share some drinks with friends.

For me, every March 17th I count the years and think to myself, ‘has it really been that long’?

“I tell some of my friends, for them it happened three years ago but for me it was yesterday. And every day is yesterday,” -CM

I had never read anything more gut-wrenchingly accurate than the above quote when it came to describing the loss of one of your closest loved ones.

For most people, my brothers’ death happened seven years ago but for me, it really does feel like yesterday. And unfortunately, every day is yesterday. I often think about how different my world would be if he was still here. 

I didn’t just lose my brother seven years ago; I lost all the precious memories and moments that could have been and if he was still here, my world would be so much different.

If he was still here, he would have proudly stood next to his best friend as I became his wife; he would have been there with us as we bought a home and became parents.

If he was still here, he would get to meet his nephew and niece and experience being an uncle which I know, without a doubt, he would have excelled at and embraced with more love than any other uncle before or after him.

If he was still here, he would get to see how much his nephew makes facial expressions that mimic him; he would be proud to see how much he loves working on cars with his daddy.

If he was still here, he would get to fall in love with his nieces’ beautiful smile, see how big and wonderful her personality already is, and see how she sometimes resembles him to a ’T’.

If he was still here, he would get to watch our parents grow old, see so many of their dreams become realities; see them be the best grandparents the world has ever known. 

If he was still here, he would join us on our annual family trips and his infectious laugh would still fill our ears with joy.

If he was still here, I know he would own that Lamborghini he always dreamed of and would start a family of his own.

If he was still here, my husband would still have his best friend and I would still have my big brother.

If he was still here, there would be one more person for me to talk on the phone to; one more person joining us around the table at Thanksgiving; one more person to celebrate Christmas with.

If he was still here, there would be one less tattoo on both mine and my husbands’ bodies; one less day that leaves me completely heartbroken; one more person to share my achievements and hardships with.

If he was still here, I wouldn’t have to teach my children about death and heaven at such a young age. I wouldn’t have to talk about their uncle in the past tense and hold back all the tears when my son tells me that Uncle Dom is in heaven, and we should drive there to visit him.

Every day, past and present, something happens that reminds me of all the precious memories that he would have experienced if he was still here, and my heart breaks all over again.

So even though it has been seven years, it still feels like yesterday that I laid my head on his chest and listened to his last heartbeat, and every day is yesterday.