CUBA PILGRIMAGE

Not long back from Cuba and wrote a few pages while i was there.
These are from a journal I bought while i lounged by the pool covered in pineapple juice and mosquito bites.
It was Reisse (my son's) idea to come to Cuba really, mostly because Budsie (my brother) came here on his honeymoon but Reisse says its nothing to do with that, he just fancied going to the country and why did i need to make everything sentimental?

Just the way I am i suppose, even more so since Budsie went.
Anyway we have another 8 days here and I'm sunburnt, covered in mosquito bites and and so is Reisse, Its a beautiful country though.
When we got here, reisse and I went to the beach at 3am, and had a water fight.
Next morning I went down at 7 while he was still sleeping and took my photographs. Was like walking in a paradise.

All white sands and turquoise water. 

THought it was about time to write a new one, because, although the old one isnt finished, its too painful to keep writing in an existing one because I keep digressing and re reading the old pages I wrote after my brother passed. 

I dont feel any better than i did last year, but in that old journal I can practically feel the heartbreak oozing out those pages. 

Its not helping my grief at all, come to think of it, neither is the fact that im sitting by the pool in a country he thought a lot of and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata has just come on my ipod. (no im not cultured before you go thinking, why the hell is she listening to Beethoven???)

Its a sad melody and I want to put on James Morrison or something a bit happier but somehow this tune suits the tone of the writing at the moment and so  ill leave it on. Funny how ive been writing my whole life, and theres a big gap between most of the last journal and this point. 

I suppose its good to have a different journal because im a different person than i was before he went. im angrier, impatient and generally unhappier. 

Im trying to fix it but no one gave me a rule book and told me how youre supposed to act whenyour brother suddenly dies at 32. 

I still dont know what im meant to do. I actually fee a bit obsessed by it, like his death defines me as a person. when i was young, i was defined by a lot of different people. I was Scott's wee sister, Ally's wife and reisse's mum. Mostly I was Scott's wee sister because he was my constant, the loudest person in the world, the biggest presence, the first one up dancing at a party and the first one to make friends on holiday and i miss him impossibly. 

its so painful to even think of him without tears. I drag him up in every conversation, even to strangers, and in a way im allowing myself to be defined by his death. 

Even now, when its supposed to be a hopeful beginning to a journal, its turning into a grief outpouring again. 

HIs life stopping has stopped mine to a certain extent and im trying to get the wheels moving to start it again, but im lost, utterly lost. 

I suspect, mum, dad, Reisse and Mel, his wife, maybe feel the same way too but everyones dealing with it in different ways. 

I cry, whenever anyone mentions him in any shape or form, but whether counselling would matter or do anything, i don't think so. 

i think writing is my counselling. This is literally one of the worst things i can imagine ever happening to me and i feel so selfish for the way i have dealt with it. 

im not sure if its selfishness or lack of just not knowing what the fuck to do. 

I saw in a film once someone had lost someone close to them and they were asked what they were going to do next?

He said "Im going to wake up in the morning and breathe in and out. After a while, I won't have to remember to breathe in and out!'

Guess thats kind of how i feel, i dont have to remind myself but i am kind of ambling through my life. 

Last year just after it, I literally lost the whole year. I took my son to Turkey to get away but I dont remember getting there, I dont remember being on a plane or driving to Newcastle. I dont remember my son going to school or him getting home. I lived in a fog and i feel so guilty that i wasnt there for him but i couldnt do it. I couldnt even eat. 

I honestly dont remember most of last year. just a few snippets and im sure I've lost a good few friends along the way.

sometimes i feel my own grief is too heavy and too foggy to see through and i cetainly dont feel able to help anyone else through theirs. 

God once i start this, i cant stop. its been so long, since ive felt able to write and its like an outpouring of last years feelings. maybe it will pull me out my slump.

for a while, while i was driving and late at night were the worst because when i wasnt busy, i was reliving it. i would cry and cry almost to the desperate point. 

i miss him so desperately, its a physical pain. Mum was so worried when i wouldnt eat, that was how she feltand how she dealt with it was to cook and clean like she always was a mother earth. 

Wonderful woman, we were adopted but she was born to be a mother. The kind who always made us birthday cakes, and sewed curtains, was always there when we got in from school and read is Chronicles of Narnia before school in the morning. 

Cooking and cleaning, taking care of everyone but herself, thats part of the reason my heart breaks for her, and for my dad. 

The son  they fought so hard through courts for, to get, to raise, to love. I feel crushed by her grief as well as my own. 

My poor dad the same. They fought so hard to be parents, they thought they would have us for the rest of our lives, and now scott's gone. 

The last time i saw my brother, we had all spent a brilliant day together at Xscape and it was strange the way it worked out. we were all going to go to ibrox for a tour but rangers won the cup and it was sold out on their only day off so we went to play crazy golf instead. 

What a laugh we had that day, scott and i were making innuendos, about the holes and humps the whole way round to confuse reisse. 

They babysat for me that night,Mel cut my fringe and Reisse and scott watched tv in the living room. 

When i left, I didnt give him a hug like i always do, I dont think i did but cant remember. i stood at the living room door looking at him, and said love you,

it doesnt haunt me as he knew i loved him, he called me his sunshine. Thats what i sang at his funeral. 

i feel like i had to get this all out of my system, little bursts of writing like this is ok but sometimes thinking about him consumes me and i cant think of anything else. when i said earlier i feel like his death defines me, i actually feel like i have to tell everyone i meet, like i have to make sure everyone knows about him. I cant let anyone forget. 

Maybe i do it by way of explaining my irrationality, that if i suddenly cry or explode at them itll go some way to explaining why im like this. 

The grief marrs everything i do, like i met this woman on holiday and so far thats all ive gone on about. Other people must be bored stiff haha,