CW: Death, Addiction
It's been almost a month since my older brother died from a fentanyl overdose. Some days I still don't believe it.
Jonathan lived with addiction. As much as it was something within his life, I'm angry at people for letting it define the way they remember him.
"He struggled for so long."
"Jon overcame many obstacles."
"Yes, it's a tragedy, but part of me always knew this would be how he would die."
To hear those things, repeated in different ways, has been infuriating. Hearing how people remember him feels like a personal reminder of where it feels like others have continually failed him. When he was at low points, people didn't want to see him or know how to handle the situation. I've continually seen him cast aside by people he thought to be friends and by family that stopped reaching out. I know this to be true, because I've always been the one to pick him up. He called me when things were at the lowest, when he was kicked out of all the other places and spaces on multiple occasions. No matter what state of mind or physical shape he was in, he was always kind and never put me in any danger. He was someone that always tried to move with love.
Jon was familiar with being someone that was cast to the side, which is something we talked about from time to time. When I do have the opportunity to hear others talk of his kindness and willingness to be there for them in their darkest times, I still get angry and jump to thoughts of, "then where the fuck were you when HE needed someone?" What brings me out of that space of wanting to react with the hurt that my brother died, is knowing he truly made a difference in this world. I can recognize and admit that it's a personal feeling that other's should have done more for him and if they did, he might still be alive. That is absolutely untrue. No matter what anyone will say or think or feel will ever bring him back.
Learn from Jonathan. Love others and show up for them. If you want to be remembered for your love and kindness, prove it with your actions. Continually show up for someone you love and care for even if it might be uncomfortable for you.
Jon believed he was more than his body. He spent a great deal of his life trying to understand the meaning of it. Why are we here? Through a desire to get the answer to that question, Jon searched in many unique places and gained vast amounts wisdom. He died as an initiated Free Mason and felt connected to the teachings. It was a place and space where he was accepted and honored for his knowledge. His soul was his most important asset and spent hours in meditations and prayer, reading and drawing the images found in holy works, to learning how to throat sing because of the healing vibrations. The esoteric conversations are ones that I will miss deeply. It was a space for us. Even as kids, he was training me to be able to control my dreams so we could meet up in them all because he read about in a book. I give Jon most of the credit for opening my heart and mind to endless possibilities. From aliens to jumping timelines. He viewed life a curios adventure. He taught me to see symbols and signs in everything. I look at sunsets as paintings from the one time he told me that if I'm ever sad, God will use my favorite colors before bed.
A conversation we shared over coffee was how he knows he is a soul because of how he views family. That our dad, not being his biological dad, he loved and respected the role that dad stepped into, for him. He recognized what he felt for others was deeper than appearances or how our blood categorized us as. He was my half brother and it still feels ridiculous to say. He was working so hard on living up to his personal standards of what he felt to be a good dad, a good partner, a good brother, a good human. Through his actions, we all felt his efforts. We felt the love Jon continually showed up to the table with. From his friends to his children's siblings, they were loved deeply as his family.
Jon took the love desired in his life and showed up as the person he always needed. Learn from Jonathan. Heal the inner child, silence the self critic, stop the nagging background noise that says you aren't deserving and know that love is possible. Find the magic that comes with living and look to the sky and trees. Take deep breaths under the full moon. Stare at candles just to see if you have weird dreams.
My heart is aching while I am finding comfort in four leaf clovers. I'm not sure what life will look like soon since everything is changing. The layers of life that demand attention and continue to move me further into a future of uncertainty are delicately balancing on the scale with grief for what has been lost and the excitement of life yet to come.
As I move into the next chapter of my life, the first one without him, I hope to do our shared dreams justice. I am leaning into a new way of living and finding time to share our truth through stories and tales. Tell people how you feel and hug them so good it heals their cells (Jon taught me that).