Grey's Anatomy

As many of you know, I'm a huge Grey's Anatomy fan. It's possibly my favorite show! Well it's so stinkin' dramatic that it makes me cry, almost every time. Usually I love it... but tonight it was all too real.
Most of you know, but perhaps there are some newcomers that might not know- eight years ago (holy crap! 8!) my brother was in a motorcycle accident that took his life.
I've been pretty good at handling my grief over the years, actually I'm proud of myself and my strength. I really didn't have a choice, I was only 19 years old. I knew no different on how to handle things.
Anyway, tonight Grey's was all about the stages of grief. And it started with a character, George, dying. Got hit by a bus (great TV drama).
So watching this brought back tremendous grief. The grief I harbor deep inside. So what am I going to do, blog about it. Before I had multiple kids, believe it or not, I was a writer. A very good writer. I wish I could focus long enough in quiet to get back to that... anyway back on point.

That summer day I was sunbathing at the beach with Lindsey, in Lansing. I got a phone call from my Dad telling me that my brother had been in a motorcycle accident and I needed to come to the hospital. So we packed up our stuff and took off quickly back to our apartment. My mind was telling me, you need to back a bag of stuff, because he's probably injured pretty bad and you're doing to be there for a few days.
I had hope. I had real hope. Only once did it cross my mind that he might die. Once.
Well about and hour or so later when we got to the hospital, I found out that he really did die.
-skip forward for sake of sanity-
So I'm watching Grey's tonight and I see these people saying goodbye to George and I can't help but dream of what it would have been like if I had gotten to say goodbye. Would it have been better? Or worse?
Lindsey and I were talking tonight, and she made a valid point- that at that time in my life it was better the way it happened.
I was far too young. And it made it easier, in a strange way, to just have him be "gone." And my amazing memories intact.
In hindsight, I would have loved to be able to talk to him again- whether on life support machines or whatever, but I didn't get that. He was just gone.
I try not to let myself "get deep into that" for my sanity's sake. I'm perfectly ok with my grief hiding deep in my heart. That's how I've chosen to deal with it. It peeks out it's grizzly head from time to time. Otherwise I'd be a kookookrazy girl. But I'm a pretty strong person.
Point of my sob story, at the end of Grey's each character was saying a quote about grief, and this one touched me and my life the most-
"The very worst part is the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again. And always, every time, it takes you're breath away."
And so it did tonight.