Sunday, November 28, 2010


We're sitting on a train letting the rhythmic bump-bump, bump-bump, lull us further into our catatonic state. Our eyes are empty. White sockets. No once else rides the rails, just me and my family. We boarded a week ago. We have no idea where we're going, just that one day we might get there.

We huddle together for dinner. We talk about the weather. We talk about the flowers. We talk about the food. We pay attention to the door that leads into the next car. We wait for it to open. We wait for someone to walk down the aisle to join us. We don't talk about waiting though, because we all know we'll be waiting forever.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010


I just need to know you're beyond this gravity ridden world and experiencing something greater than we can ever comprehend. I know J knows, but I really need to know to.

I love you forever.

Monday, November 22, 2010

For Shane

There are a million and one things I want to say to you. But all million and one are trying to get out at the same time and to be blunt, it's all pretty fucking confusing.


I'm confused how we got to this point so quickly. I'm confused how I didn't know I should have been here earlier.

Should have.

I should have listened harder. I should have jumped off my silver lined cloud and joined you in reality.


You're gone. You've passed. You're dead.


I feel fucking dead inside.

My older brother. My watchful eye. My guardian. My protector. My frustration. My pain. My hope. My love.

You mean more to me than you will ever know. Or did you know? Years ago I wrote a 'life's list' of things to do. Learn to drive standard. See a moose. Travel. Get to know Shane. See quicksand...

Maybe we didn't have the deep philosophical conversations I thought we were supposed to have and maybe I didn't know your deepest secrets, but when I take a deep breath and calm myself from all the should of's would of's could of's, I'm reminded that in the last two years we said I love you more than any other time in our lives. We sat quiet together, as you and I could, and we shared tears. We shared love.

You knew I loved you. I will always know how much you loved me. Love me. Because even though I can't call you on the phone or send you an email or look in the family room to see you anymore, I still know that you love me. I will always feel your love for me.

You are special beyond words, Duke Shane Larson. And as much as you felt protective over your sisters, your sisters felt the same way about you. And although we can't protect you anymore, we know you're in the best possible company until we see you again.

I love you so much. I miss you ever more.

Friday, November 19, 2010


It's a funny thing to migrate to an online blog when your world feels at a panicked standstill. Like somehow the internet fairies are going to make it all better.

Please do that now, little binary buddies. Make me feel better. Make my mom and dad and sister and brother in law and nephew and grandpa and friends and relatives feel better. Maybe you can give us all a pain patch. Use your magic to reach through the screen and soothe our sorry souls because this world is going to lose someone very special soon and aside from magic, I got nothing.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


I remember when my friend was dying of cancer years ago, I went for a run through trails we used to walk. It was a crisp, sunny day. The leaves were turning colour and the ground smelled of moist soil.

I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran.

I ran over a little bridge, through the wetlands and back again. I was running because I thought I was fat. At some point, I stopped. And I cried.

I looked at my feet. I thought of my friend. I thought of how pathetic the reason I was running was. I thought about how he'd never be able to run again, and how I was out there punishing myself for eating too much. I was running because I thought I had to, and he would never be able to run again. I was beating my perfectly healthy, strong, capable body, and he was dying.

Today was one of those days where reality set in. My brother is dying. He won't be able to run anymore. I sat on a rock on a beautiful beach in Hawaii surrounded by bustling coworkers, crashing waves and the howling wind and I stared at my shoes. My feet. I thought about how strong they were. I thought about how embarrassed I was for telling someone my day was just 'okay' only minutes before. I thought about how on any given day, no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I run.

I run to get water. I run to the car. I run to get lunch. I run to the bathroom. I run and I run and I run.

Sometimes people tell me to slow down, ask what's the rush? Why am I running? And I simply say, because I can.