RECENT ESSAY: The Most Difficult Part of Marrying

By far the most difficult part of marrying Grace is not asking her father, though I was scared.

It was not buying a ring, which cost as much as a set of REALLY nice All Terrain tires for my truck.

It was not even getting down on one knee, stuttering like a dog, and asking her The Question.

No, the most difficult part of marrying Grace has not yet come.

Because it resides in the near future, when I stand in front of family and friends, preparing myself to take the greatest oath of all, and I see everyone I love so dearly,

except
for
my
Brother.

Often when someone dies, people tell you that “things will get better.”

Or they’ll tell you that there are brighter days ahead.
They might say that some day you’ll move on, or that if you don’t, you’re stuck in the past.

But loss — more accurately, the “lifelong grief that follows death” — does not abide by simple nomenclatures or well wishes.

It is not like our physical wellbeing — it does not decline over time.

It is not like our mental capacity — it does not lose its strength.

It is permanent, and it is vapid.

It is impossible to define, and unavoidable.

That sort of grief makes itself known when it wishes.

For weeks I have been stressed. I have chalked it up to typical wedding procedures, amplified by international dynamics. I have attempted to work around it; I have attempted to write around it.

But on a sunny afternoon, here on the North Island of New Zealand, 9,000 miles from home and 4 years distant from the most recent memory of my brother, while establishing the outline of my future life, I have found that grief, against all wishes, commands, and abilities,

makes itself known once more.

So I hope your wedding was, or will be, a beautiful day.

And for mine, I hope much the same.

But I know there will come a single moment, and only a single moment if I am truly lucky, perhaps in the brief silence between two songs, or on the occasion I spot an empty seat, or when I see some young brothers on that day, in which I am wrought by the realization that my younger brother,

will never make it to my wedding.

This is what I share for free on Instagram, 3-4 times per week.