Thoughts after a while

It has been a while since I posted last. The holiday has been demanding. Even though the first week was very relaxing the last weeks were pretty stressful. Not only did we have another celebration of our marriage planned but there was also a big part of my family visiting my new family overseas. So there was lots of planning and organizing to do, wishes to fulfill and the constant attempt to make everyone (of a group of about 30 people) happy. Obviously, it did not work at all times. But the fact that there were people who were disappointed or sad because something did not work out the way they thought it should have bothered me tremendously. In addition to me grieving for Alexander I had to be a tour guide and helper in all situations. But sometimes I just felt low and needed time for myself. Not being able to have that was hard.
There were other moments, however, that were at the same time incredibly beautiful and sad. When we were out camping in the middle of nowhere and could see the stars above us, wake up to the most amazing scenery in the morning, it was hard to just enjoy this without being sad. I was sad that Alexander chose never to see this beauty and peacefulness. He decided to miss so many wonders this earth holds for you! This is something that is very hard for me to understand.
There were moments where I missed him so very much. When I felt so low and was disappointed in many of my family I know there is a slight chance that if he had been there and in a good mood that he would have come up to me and told me “just laugh about it, it’s ridiculous anyway” and I would have believed him. He had this way of making you laugh about things that were so serious for you and so important. But he could make you think they were nothing or just funny. I do not have anyone else in my big family who can do quite the same. I miss that so very much. I miss hearing him laugh, hearing his thoughts. And even though I miss that so much I still have a hard time imagining that he is really gone forever.
I noticed now, being back and giving myself more time than I could the last few weeks how my distinct memories of Alexander fade away. This is something very hard to acknowledge since I always believed this could never happen, I could never forget anything related to my brother. Now here I am, a little bit over four months since he decided to go and I notice that I cannot imagine the way he smelled anymore. I am most certain that I would immediately recognize it if I were to smell it again, but I cannot just recall the memory of it like I could before. Even his smile and his body structure from the way I could feel it when I hugged him is not as crystal clear as it was in the first few months. I am scared that I will loose more memories.
Why did he not call me when he needed help? Why did he not reach out to someone who could have helped him? Why did he not bother to say goodbye? Did he think nobody loved him? Where is he now? Can he hear me? My heart cries for him every day, every second. I miss him so much, more than I ever thought possible. And I am scared that I might loose someone else, most of all my husband. I cannot see myself living if he were not by my side. I pray that we can grow old together, and I pray that Alexander is safe and happy somewhere. I hope though that he can also see what he did to us, that he knows what we are going through, that my mum grieves so much that she cannot think about her other children nearly as much as she thinks about him. I am angry with Alexander for shifting the attention that my two youngest sisters deserve on their last year at home away from them even after his death. My parents are not the same anymore and my sisters feel it the most. Can he see that? Does he have to pay for what he did to us? I wish him peace with all my heart but would be so angry if only he could have it while all the rest of us are struggling and suffering. Does that make me mean and egoistic to think that? I hope not because I still care about him so much, love him so much. Yet I feel that I am exactly that, and I still can’t help but think this way.