Hiding out

So when it comes to dealing with my brother's death, I'm still in complete denial mode. Just as sorting through his belongings was beginning to really get to me, I hopped the train to come back to Chicago and fell back into my ordinary routines. Every now and then it occurs to me that it's odd that we haven't spoken and I touch base often with my family about items on our postmortem to-do list, but when I tell myself "My brother is dead" it doesn't resonate. It just sinks back into my consciousness like a stone falling into water without leaving a ripple.

My worry now is that this means that the reckoning, when it does come, is going to be all the worse. Occasionally I question my decision not to request a viewing. I didn't think I needed it, but even seeing the reactions of my family in St Louis hasn't been enough to bring the reality home. Moreover, I'm actively avoiding opportunities that would force me to confront it.

Initially, I suggested to bunj that we might want to go down for Thanksgiving, since neither of us was planning on coming in for Christmas this year. I haven't done that since before Monshu and I moved in together, but I understand that Mom often took M. to her family gathering so I was worried she'd feel especially bereft. Now there's talk of bringing her up here instead, and while it would feel odd not to have M. here, too, it would be such an unusual state-of-affairs all around I'm not sure how it would register.

As for Christmas, this has only redoubled my resolve about not going to St Louis. I can already see it reviving memories of 2016 and I'm like no thanks. It was actually a mercy that e. didn't come down for M.'s memorial because it meant that bunj and I spent a lot of time comforting each other whereas otherwise he would have spent most of his time with her and I would have been left adrift. I'm not setting myself up for a scenario like that again.