Author: Sean D

We live in a sad and desperate society today that believes that if “it bleeds, it leads” on the television news with happy stories taking the last page. We believe in hand outs rather than hand ups and that there is always somebody trying to screw us.

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My first thoughts after hearing the news from my sister.
“gratias tibi ago, domine.
haec credam a deo pio, a deo justo, a deo scito?
cruciatus in crucem
tuus in terra servus, nuntius fui; officium perfeci.
cruciatus in crucem
eas in crucem.”

My thoughts in German this morning:
“Du nahmst meine Schwester, Du nahmst meinen Bruder, Was nahm ich von dir? Ich gebe dir die Energie, Ich gebe dir den Ruhm. Dennoch nimmst du von mir, was Ich bin nicht bereit zu geben? Bin ich jetzt dein Job? Möchtest du mich die fühlen Schmerz bilden? Mich dann nehmen, Lord für bin mich bereit. Mich prüfen, Lord für stehe mich stark. Für deine Schlacht ist Teufel nicht mit meiner Familie aber mit mir. Mich prüfen, mich rütteln, aber verwirklichen Ich gewinne, ich gewinne immer. Du kannst mein Vertrauen gerüttelt haben, du kannst meinen Stolz gerüttelt haben. Aber mein Herz lebt an, wie meine Seele und ich stehen an den Gattern des Himmels die begrüßend werden, die mit mir kämpften, um dich zurück zu Hölle zu senden. ”

Thoughts from me this evening in Russian:
Что penance я дать к вам? Что гонорар я оплачиваю быть принятым от doghouse жизни и боли я чувствую к вашим everloving рукояткам? Как я утешаю мою семью? Как делаю я препятствуйте моим друзьям знать внимательность I. Пожалуйста скажите мне ванта oh большая для меня вполне потеряно. Мое вера пойдено и мое упование слишком. Я принимал полностью боль, котор я могу. Я не могу посмотреть друзей в глазе ни проронить слово после того как я окружан моей семьей. Моя боль неоглядна and yet все, котор я могу сделать должна заплакать. Но разрывы не приносят никакое разрешение и только мочат мою сторону. Мое сердце сломленно, моя душа сломленна, и я чувствую как ваша работа холопки. Я даю вам славу большая ванта, но я знак, что-то держать меня пойти. Для я не могу стоять боль я предпринимаю сегодня.

Please hear me Big Guy, I am hurting beyond belief. I get on this site writing my feelings for I have no other outlet than crying. My heart is so sore and my inability to sleep after multiple sleeping medicines is worrisome. I thought I could keep away from here, but writing is the only thing I have right now. I’ve tried to sleep, eat, walk, talk, all unsuccessfully. Give me the guidance to find the solution that I need.

I will return to town on Monday evening for I have work to do, a job and responsibilities to take care of. But I will be working on a sadder and heavier heart and I ask for your forgiveness for these last 48 hours. The pain I have is enourmous and my ability to hold it is limited.

Please accept my deepest apologies. Sometimes when you peek into a mans soul you have to see the darkness and the true tragedy of life.

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“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.

Don’t try.

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.

Don’t pry.

I’ll come to you slowly.

I’m in my cave. I’ll come out when I am ready.