I love snow. But towards the end of February, the love affair is over, and I start longing for warm days. Today, I look out the window and all I see is snow. It's an all-out blizzard right now. Seriously? Can we be done with this already?
However, 5 years ago today was a completely different story. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, there were beautiful daffodil blooms on my windowsill (courtesy of my CIPA friends, celebrating Gavin's birth just 16 days before). It was so nice, that Brady and my Father-in-Law decided to go golfing for the first round of the season.
I, still basking in the glow of new motherhood, was sitting at the coffee table, working on Gavin's baby book. He was sleeping beside me. Looking back, it was all so Norman Rockwell it makes my heart hurt to this day.
About noon, the phone rang. The call changed my family forever. My brother had been in a motorcycle accident, and although he couldn't give me any details at the time, the officer said it was imperative that I come out to Yale and meet him at my Dad's house. Of course, this started the scramble. OH MY GOD, I have to call Brady. Brady, you have to come get me, we need to get to Yale. This has to be wrong, everything is OK, I just need to get there and everything will be fine. You'll see, Nicole, you are just overracting - your mind is playing tricks on you. Dress the baby, make a couple bottles, pack the diaper bag, and we will get this all sorted out when we get there.
And then the phone rang again. This time it was not the police, but Grant, a close friend of my brother. The minute I answered the phone to his sobbing, I knew. Over the phone, Grant told me the extent of the accident, and that Justin didn't make it.
By this point, Brady had returned from golf to pick me up, and we made the mad dash out to Yale. All I could think about was getting out there to fix this. It was all a mistake, once I got there, I would explain everything, and we would laugh about how crazy neurotic Nicole got herself in a tizzy over nothing. And then we arrived in Yale.
The officer met me at my Dad's house. Since my Dad was no where to be found (he didn't have a cell phone at the time) and my other brother was living in Florida, I was next of kin. He took me aside, explained the details, and confirmed that my little brother was in fact deceased.
Unfortunately, (or fortunately, because all of his things were still inside) the house was locked, and my garage code was not working. I walked around to the back door, attempted to open it, and collapsed. How could this be happening? Less than 48 hours ago he was at my house and I was telling him what an idiot he was for buying some stupid earrings. And what about Gavin? He was only 16 days old, and surely couldn't know the extent of my grief, and would never know the uncle that cherished him by rubbing my belly, holding him, and just marveling at the first little baby he had ever held.
I hurt so bad, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. It still hurts, just not as deep and raw and sorrowful as at first. I wonder. If he were still here, would him and Gavin be the best of buddies? Would he have been as excited about Grayson's birth as he was with Gavin? Would he be married, with kids of his own?
So many questions, no answers whatsoever. But today, I look out at the snow and wish that it was snowing on March 26, 2006 - because he wouldn't have gone for a motorcycle ride in the snow. He would have taken his beater car, and would likely still be here - horrible table manners, loud obnoxious personality and all.
I know he's up there, because he's been watching over Gavin for 5 years now. I just hope he's up for the challenge, because now he's got two to look out for.
Rest in peace Justin, I still miss you so much.
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