February 21

This time a year ago I was at work thinking about what I was going to make for dinner and wondering how my son would do at his volleyball tryouts that evening. A few hours later I would get a phone call from my Dad that would change the way my world looked forever. Most of us have experienced a death of a loved one by the time we reach our forties. I had lost all 4 of my grandparents and a few friends already by the time I arrived at February 21st 2014. Nothing had prepared me for the way I would feel that day. Nothing prepared me for what I would have to tell my kids. Nothing prepared me for the scream that came out of me, making me sound a lot more like a wild animal than a human. That being said, I am pretty comfortable with Death. Maybe it's my Irish ancestry that makes me feel this way but ever since I was little Death and I have kind of been friends in a weird way. I understand him and his necessary part in the grand scheme but Loss is different thing. Loss is a big, cavernous hole of blackness that you can't fill in with anything. You can't move it or close it off, you just have to figure out some way to work around it. Prayer helps. Time helps, but nothing erases it.
It's that sense of loss that has been the hardest to feel and to watch others I love grapple with this past year. I must say I am proud, yet again, of the people I come from. We fell down on our knees but we got back up. We got angry but we let it go. We were hurting but we kept on working, pushing, living. We did it because he would have wanted us to. I know everyone says that but it's true. The loss becomes a part of your reality and you just keep living. It really is that simple. When I think back to those long hours in the hospital waiting,,,and waiting and 30 plus of us taking up space in the hallway. Eating too many vending machine meals and crying on each others shoulders. I remember seeing my sweet Aunt, his lovely wife sitting on the chair with her hands folded in her lap, still with that smile on her face. I might miss him, but he is the love of her life. I can only hope someday to be loved like that, to love in return like she loves him still. I remember over 40 members of his union coming to pay respects and see if my Aunt and cousins needed anything and they meant anything. Guys he hadn't worked with in years, high school buddies from all over the country, friends of his sons, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, so many people just wanting to help. I experienced more outpouring of love, support and prayer in that time period than anyone could ever dream to have. I walk around every day with the knowledge of how loved I am, how loved he is and I am grateful. I remember the nursing staff commenting that they had never seen a family like ours. I bet they never will again. He was the golden boy, the baby of a large, rambunctious family and every time I look at my brother and his kids, at my kids, at my cousins kids...I see a piece of his smile in them. We might have lost one our of own but we didn't lose us.
In his legendary words.....We are the Manning's - Enjoy us. Rest in Peace Uncle Tim.