When someone really close to you dies it’s always the little things that you forget first.
In the months following Terry’s death I forgot what his voice sounded like. Because his voice was so second nature to me that I’d never had to think what it actually sounded like. I spent days on end playing his answering machine message over and over, just trying to remember.
I forgot how really close we were. I spent the days following his funeral kicking myself that I didn’t call him more, or spend more time with him. It never feels like you did enough when all of a sudden they’re gone and you realize you will never get the chance to talk to or see them again.
I will always remember the big things. The one’s that are easy to remember because they made him the man that he was.
Terry was a tall man with brown hair and brown eyes. He was in to sports and music, clubbing and having fun. He was always training for a triathlon here or there. He loved his food, his cars, his woman and drink. He was an incredibly loyal and protective brother.
As time goes on you begin to remember things that have long since been forgotten. Silly things, that were special only to him and I.
They come at moments when you least expect them. A long time ago it would have been a really painful memory, no matter how sweet. But now it put’s a smile on my face and a glow in my heart.
Something that come to mind.
Terry would never hand me my birthday presents. He would never wrap them either. He would always come in to my room late the night before and throw it on my bed, still in the plastic bag he got it from the store in. For a long time all he got me was Stephen King novel’s. Then it was Bon Jovi CD’s. I remember that the first time he did this (gulp) I was VERY young and it was a (gasp) cassette tape…Alvin and the Chipmonks (I did mention that I was very young right!?) It was a short and sweet affair, but as he left he would always say “Don’t say I don’t look after you kid†because he knew that he’d got me exactly what I wanted.
As time goes by I hope to share more of these bitter sweet memories I have with you. I like to think that one day, if I am not around, Jaxon will get to know his uncle Terry through this blog.
We were close. His voice has come back to me.
Aw that’s beautiful Boo. And I know what you mean about the voice. It’s why I told Jeannette to be sure to get her Mom’s voice on tape for James. One of my treasured possessions was a tape of my Grandparents talking when I was young. It was just regular BS chit-chat back and forth nonsense but it was their VOICES that I treasured.
It really is the little things…..
I’ve never felt so OLD MB! I am going to have to say the words “cassette tape” TWICE in one day!
I have a tape of one of our many parties while Mum and Dad were away camping. I don’t even know if our stereo PLAYS tapes, much less where it is (though I know I still have it) so I doubt I will ever get to hear his voice again.
But that tape is VERY special to me. It also has 200 squeeling pigs on the other side of it!
I also have two video’s that Tasha and I made when I was 16-17. One mostly of me being a twat, but one of the family. It also has Mum playing the piano, very special but again…I don’t think I’ll ever see them again, since we don’t even own a VCR anymore!
Ahhh, but the POTENTIAL is there. You could track both of those players down if you wanted to. Luckily I am still stuck in the dark ages and own BOTH! LOL! Here’s how old *I* am – that CASSETTE TAPE I have? It was made on one of the first cassette tape recorders ever sold. It was the newfangled thing to have since not everyone had a reel-to-reel tape player hanging around their house. God only knows why my grandfather wanted one but I’m glad he did.
Hehehe — Chuck is so old he had . . . . wait for it . . . 8-track tapes!!
I remember the first time Zac looked at my parents stereo and wanted to know what the record player was, and then I pulled out (omg I can’t believe I’m going to admit this) my Donny Osmond albums and various 45s.
And you are so right on it always being the little things that make things come rushing back.
The little things are what make life worth living
My family didn’t have the foresight to record my grandparents, so when I find a letter or a note from one of them, they are that much more valuable to me. My gram had such distinctive writing, very 1920s public school America, lol. My other grandmother had writing so bad people outside the family could not read it. I’m a bit out of practice now, but I think I could still decipher a letter.
You know Boo, there are companies that could take those audio and video tapes and put them into digital versions so you could play them on CD, your computer, etc. It’s just a thought.
I totally understand about the little things. I lost my mom a few years ago, and we were so close. I feel like there are certain thins, ordinary things about her that I forget, and which I could just keep hold of. It’s hard, but great to express yourself, and your memories.
Sex Diaries of a Mom
The little things are the biggest things of all and when it came to Terry there were heaps of little things……Like that bloody laugh that was annoying as hell but today I would do anything to hear it again.
Or the way he would come to visit and raid the cupboards of biscuts and lollies
Or when a song comes on the radio that he loved and you leave your body for 3 minutes and back at school with the whole gang.