three more sleeps until I’m reunited with my favorite people

When I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad

The weather was very odd this past Saturday night. It was kind of chilly with warm gusts of wind and a clear, yet ominous sky. I committed to staying in on this night because I ran 9 miles (14k) in the morning and had a cycling class first thing on Sunday. I had the whole evening planned out which included watching a movie I’d been wanting to see, a nice dinner and a walk with Russ. These things changed a little when my brother came downstairs.

My brother has one of the most interesting lives of anyone I’ve ever met. He has friends all over the world. Ones he’s met in person and ones who exist solely on the internet. I could listen to him tell stories for hours because like my dad, he’s a good storyteller. Anyway, on this particular night, he decided to take mushrooms and go exploring. He asked if he could come talk to me before he left which turned into a nice night between the two of us.

I won’t say much because it isn’t my place to share what we talked about in detail but he did say a few things that really stuck with me. I could tell he was in good energy and feeling very expressive and raw in his emotions especially as it pertains to friendships and relationships. For the past while, I’ve been a little removed and quiet while moving through life. It’s been peaceful and calm but has left me siloed from social outings for the time being. I’ve appreciated our nightly walks together and how our relationship has evolved over the past year. I really depended on him emotionally and he was very patient with me.

While he was downstairs with Russ and I, we talked about all sorts of topics ranging from our childhood memories to movies and owing money to the utilities company. I know I’ve said this often and I’ll continue saying it but there’s something very special and unique about living in the same building as my brother. When I wake up and realize I live on another continent, I remember he’s three stories above me and it reminds me that everything will be okay. When I’m out late or doing something and he texts me to say he checked on Russ and put on classical music for him, I feel like this is my home.

Anyway, as we sat in my living room, Ryan told me how hard it was to watch me endure the last year. He told me how worried both he and my dad were about me and knew it would take time for me to find my footing. He said he had never quite seen me like that and knew it would take time. Then, he complimented me on my progress and told me things about my personality and nature from the vantage point of someone who has been close to me my entire life. He reminded me of my core elements—things that make me, me. I never realized how he saw me but what I’ve always appreciated is that he treats me not only like his sister but a friend, too. He said I had a “rich interior life” and I wondered what he meant by that.

My relationships with people over this past year have changed a lot. I’ve had to depend on people close to me and that’s outside of my comfort zone. I think about how grateful I am for the support I received and how it’s my turn to give that back where I can. As corny as it sounds, I wrote an entire page in my journal yesterday about everything I was grateful for. Literally, it read “I’m grateful for ______ ” 20 times over. It reminded me of a letter I once received from a friend where they wrote two pages of all the “Kendall-isms” they loved. Some of them were funny and even 10+ years later, they haven’t changed all that much.

october 2015: one of the best months of my life

ich liebe mango eis

I was listening to my playlist yesterday while I was feeling more homesick than usual for a person who doesn’t consider themselves very patriotic. I added “Come Sail Away” to the line-up and let it play all the way through. I kind of avoid listening to Styx and there’s a reason for that. Anyway, I listened to the whole song yesterday and it reminded me of one of my bittersweet memories, thus the avoidance.

Fun fact: Tommy Shaw’s daughter went to my high school. I always thought that was cool…

Any who, I was 17 at the time and life was very difficult and heavy you could say. I was battling an untreated major depressive episode and operating on fumes more or less. I lost my best friend the year prior and I didn’t handle it well—whatever that means. I always had a close relationship with her dad and found him to be one of the kindest people with an incredibly soft side. He was funny and encouraged us to be kids. He’d take us on his jobs as a contractor and let us paint walls in exchange for spending money. We’d ride in his work van to the ice cream shop and he’d let us hang our heads outside of the window while we screamed the lyrics to Paradise City or Fat Bottomed Girls. When his daughter died, I’d visit him every week to check on him. He’d come to the coffee shop where I worked and bring me dinner. We’d sit outside on my lunch break and eat the “Kendall” dinner he packed. It would be vegetable soup, a side of mashed potatoes, pickles, a boiled artichoke and sometimes, macaroni and cheese. He’d bring the meal in a little cooler and he’d endure this weird meal with me just for the company.

The summer in-between my junior and senior year, he got tickets to see Styx at the outdoor concert venue nearby. He asked me if I wanted to go and I was stoked. He told me to be ready at 5pm sharp and he’d come pick me up at my house. On that day, I looked out my window and saw him standing out of the sunroof of a limo with his arms spread wide. Turns out he had a client who owed him a favor so he insisted we rode to the Styx concert in style. Not only did we ride in the limo to the concert but he took me out to dinner before we went, too. He took me to Cracker Barrel which in hindsight is more hilarious than it was at the time. I loved Cracker Barrel at 17 years old and so that’s where he took me to eat. If you’re unfamiliar, Cracker Barrel is not a place where you’d find limo parking… lol

We went to the Styx concert and we sang along to every song. I can still remember seeing him feel joy which made me happier than I could have imagined. For a man who endured cruel loss, he had a night where he enjoyed himself again. I, myself, felt this same feeling this year at the Fred Again concert. A core memory of mine where for the first time in a long while, I felt I could enjoy myself and exhale.

Anyway, here’s to Styx and Mr. Beach, my two old friends.