“You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God,” says Graham Greene.
Well I could go on quoting the “Two Cathedrals” scene from the West Wing but it is so true. I cannot in this lifetime comprehend the situations that I have been in these last 24 hours.
I can’t cry anymore. I couldn’t stop crying yesterday, but today I can’t. I can’t shed a tear; I can’t feel anything.
All I can ask is WHY Big Guy Why?
I lost my little sister in 1991 and now my little brother in 2006. Is this some sort of test? Is this supposed to make me stronger? Because this test is too painful for me, I thought I could handle pain and suffering. Big Guy, I can’t handle this. Loved ones surround me and family but the only things I can think of is WHY?
I can’t help but hurt.
I wish I could explain the way I feel, the emptiness that I feel. But alas, I cannot. I cannot explain the way the pain I see in my parent’s eyes, the enormous sadness that surrounds me.
But I can’t.
I can’t help but try to think of stories about my brother
But I can’t.
I can’t think, or hurt or see.
For I am crying now, and I can’t seem to stop.
The tears come in waves, like the memories of my brother.
I wish I had a solution for the pain of my mother and father. But all I can do is silently sit by.
I wish I could say something that would make the pain go away.
For someone who always has something to say, I am unusually quiet.
I can’t sleep, food comes right back up. I feel for my brother Liam, for he was extremely close to Pat, each bailing the other out when they needed each other.
I’ll be back in Lubbock on Monday, but my heart will be in Hurst. My heart will be on a roadway where a seven-car accident killed my brother. My heart will be with my mom and dad; my heart will be with my brother and sisters.
I have no heart left for anything else.
I have a headache and heartache.
I thought that I would feel fine because I said goodbye to him unlike Tara. I said my peace, told him that I loved him and I thought that would make everything better. But it is totally not the same.
I was too stubborn to make peace with Tara and I continued to suffer because of my stubbornness.
I turned over a leaf of telling my family what I felt, that I forgave them for any problems we have had in the past and how much I love them each time we talk.
But the pain continues. My family spent the afternoon looking over family pictures remembering the funny, and not so funny moments, the reason why he shaved his head because he was tired of pulling paint out of his hair. To looking at him when he was young on the soccer field with his long mullet. We spent moments looking at him at different moments of his life. We looked at pictures at his wedding to Teresa and we looked at the tape measures that he wore even to his wedding. We surprised him by all of the groomsmen wearing tape measures. Sunday we will have tape measures that will be given out to all the family members and to guests. They have on them Patrick Donahue 2-14-73 / 5-5-06.
I think everyone is doing different things to try and deal with the pain. Mom is trying to make a plan, because that’s what mom does. She has to have a plan. I’m not sure you can plan for this. She had a plan when Tara died, cause she had been sick and my mom knew the end was coming but denied it to all of us. Mom is trying to keep busy. She was up all night long and I couldn’t help her.
Dad, on the other end, has done the thing I only saw him do at Tara’s funeral. He openly wept today. My father is a strong and powerful man and it totally tears me apart to see him hurting.
The rest of the family is working on different things whether it would be keeping track of their kids or greeting friends with food.
I can sometimes keep food down and feel like I’m eating anything that is put in front of me. Then there are times when I can’t even choke down a cracker without feeling sick.
Why do people feel that food solves everything? Maybe it is just a lack of a thought of what to say. I don’t have the solution of what to say. There is nothing that anyone can say that can make it better.
What you can do is to be supportive. Don’t try to be funny; don’t try to make me laugh. I’ll try to laugh on my own. What you can do is be considerate. I don’t want to hear about car problems or your scratch on your truck. What you can do is leave me alone.
There is a part of me that will remain closed.
I’ll come to you slowly.
I’m in my cave. I’ll come out when I am ready.