The Hours We Have

chapter fifty

Everything simply is. 

As humans, we have a tendency to expect. We expect there to be more time, we expect there to be another day, we expect life to be perfect, and the reality is that it's not. It never will be. All that we can truly have is now. The hours we have, the minutes we have, the seconds we have, it's every present moment we live in that creates the beauty of our lives. 

I had discovered so many things I hadn't known before by living in the present moment. It was almost as if a clearer image appeared after I stopped stirring the water with my anger. I grew closer with my brothers, and that had been something I wasn't sure would happen. 

As we grew into adults, with the collision of tragedy, I thought it had separated us. I thought the broken pieces had cut us too deep, and we had bled out. I had never been so wrong. The truth was, shattering into a million pieces only allowed for a masterpiece to form. Like a mosaic, none of the pieces match their original form, but fitted together in new ways, they design glorious art that glitters in the sun and every piece tells a unique story. 

There was once a time where I didn't know what the meaning of family meant, when I was sure we had lost it in the storm of pain. I hadn't known it then but a perfect family is a false image, it doesn't actually exist. Every family has disputes, fights, and struggles. Every family suffers, they have missing pieces, and the pain overwhelms their love. 

But, nobody will tell you that pain unveils the rawest meaning of family. At least, they never told me. I had to figure that out. Of course, family doesn't always mean by blood. Family is the people who never turn their backs on you, and they sit with you in the dark. But a family who feels broken will end up healing together, with each other, if they are willing to understand that they are not alone.  

Even if there might be defense mechanisms and walls to climb, the truth will eventually find its way out. Either through tears or anger, it is there. Buried beneath the pain, and like a seed that has been planted, ever so gradually, the roots will begin to grow. 

My family was exemplary of thus said. 

I think everyone has a fear of losing their parents, whether they acknowledge it or not, because ever since we were kids our parents had been there. Even if it might not be blood relation, parent figures make an impact on us, and they teach us everything they can. 

Except how to live without them. 

At some point in our lives, we are meant to diverge from our parents and morph into ourselves, with our own lives and beliefs, but that doesn't mean we disregard everything that built up to that moment. It is like stepping stones, and even when tragedy struck, it hadn't been a milestone that was meant to be the last.

Even when it may feel like the end, it is only the beginning of something new. It might be scary, terrifying, and unknown, but that doesn't mean we have to trap ourselves in the past. There is beauty in letting go, and accepting things we cannot change. 

For us, it was finally time to clean out our parent's bedroom and move on with our lives. In a sentimental way, we didn't need them anymore, and it had been hard to accept when tragedy stole them too soon. But, we were five siblings standing side by side, and there were no more slamming doors in our house. Instead, doors were opening. 

Just like the moment I walked into my parent's bedroom, the unused hinges creaked as I pushed the door open. I could faintly recall the scent that reminded me of our parents, as if they still lived here. There were so many emotions that flooded me.

I could feel my brothers standing behind me as the silence held us captive. 

For a breath, none of us moved. Our eyes traced over the items left untouched. Dusty photographs were delicately strewn across the dresser, Mom's jewelry still laid on silk clothes where she would pick them out every morning. There was another family photograph on the nightstand with Dad's wristwatch, he would put it on the moment his alarm clock went off.