Being left to do the living.

2015 has not been kind to my family.

I haven't written on this little old blog here during this calendar year. Not once. Because frankly, I didn't have a thing to write about worth writing about.

The year rolled in and brought with it a major tragedy. On January 2, my successful, funny, driven, adorable, kind nephew passed away after suffering a head injury from a fall. He was 22. He had the entire future, a whole lifetime of living, ahead of him. Yet he is gone.

There is no rhyme or reason to who dies and who gets to live. Children die. Adults die. The elderly die. And others live. But eventually we all have that common fate. We will all, in fact, die.

And when someone dies, it's those who are left that must carry the heavy burden of living. Living to see a day that you desperately want your loved one to be seeing with you. If you stop and think about that person no longer existing on this planet...well, it can just be too much to bear. The burden can become too heavy for those that are left to do the living.

My sister. My nieces. They lost a son, a brother. Yet they must continue to live.

Then on a beautiful Monday in May, my dad suffered a massive stroke. He died 2 days later.

He lived to be 76 and met every one of his grandchildren. And he definitely did a lot of living.

Yet, he is no longer on this planet either. And that...after having him as a constant presence in all 37 years of my life, is an adjustment. He is gone. My kids will never harass their Pop Pop again. They will never confuse him with their new technology or tell him stories about school. I will never have to cut his hair again (because he marked it on his calendar and reminded me every 5 weeks when he was due for a cut). We will never listen to his many, many stories again.

So my mom lost her husband of 44 years. We have lost a father, uncle, friend, and a major pain in the butt. Yet we continue to live.

I spoke at my dad's funeral. Here is a excerpt of the eulogy:

All that is left when we are gone are memories. And if a memory or story of you can bring a smile to someones face or make them laugh, then that is a sign of a life well lived.

I have worked on this blog for several years. I have put countless hours into it. I have tried to grow my audience and create a sense of community on social media. So I wanted to check in here and let everyone know where I have been. And to let you know that I am here. I am back and I will try to write things worth writing about and worth reading. But most importantly, I will try to bring a smile to your face or make you laugh.

And I send big hugs to everyone, everywhere, who might ever feel the burden of being left to do the living.