Today is a sad day in my family. On this day, fifteen years ago we lost my mom. Those who know me, and those who have read this blog regularly know what a painful loss that has been for me. You also know we lost my brother David in 1968. Loss and dealing with it change a family. Nothing is ever the same when you lose the people you love. How you cope is what defines you from that moment on.
In the case of my mom, I have thought back over and over again all the lessons she tried to teach me. Some of the lessons were involved incredible a ha moments. Others were more painful. Nancy Colpaert was an intelligent woman, full of grace and love. She was a determined woman who could have achieved things in life that few women had tried in her day.
She lived through the depression, which I believe gave her strength. She served her country. While she might not have talked much about her service, she served when women volunteered, and men were drafted. Through this I learned the value of service to others.
She and my dad traveled the world, and as I mentioned in another post, she taught me that this was my world, and I needed to discover it. She encouraged dreams. When I wanted to be an actor, she bucked conventional wisdom(a.k.a. Dad), and told me to pursue it. I learned the importance of being loyal through her.
I believe my love of coffee came from her. That woman could make a cup of coffee that would get up, walk over to you, slap you in the face and tell you to get your butt in gear. When she would come back from a trip, one of the criteria for whether a trip was a good one or not, was how good was the coffee. Sorry China - epic fail!
The death of my brother taught me different lessons. I learned that sometimes families don't know how to cope with loss. I learned when one is taken away at such a young age, there is a void which is never quite filled. From David though, I learned about fun, joy, competition, and how you need to take the time to share things with children.
David died at 16. I was 5. At a point in his life when he could have pushed away a younger brother to spend time with friends, he made time for me. My best memories are of him putting me on his shoulders, and I would have to duck as we would go from room to room. David was over 6'5" tall.
His death changed my family in a negative way. Mom's death changed me for the better. Loss means we have to learn how to live with the change. It means we have to think about what we learned from our loved ones, and hopefully put the best lessons in place. It isn't easy. Death has a way to swallow people and consume them. That isn't what our loved ones want. They want us to thrive and live, not live in sadness.
Each time I run, I take a few moments to think about my mom and brother, and privately ask them to come along with me as I take my journey that day. I miss them every day, but I believe they are with me in some form with every step I take.
I love you mom and David.
Charlie
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