Not the Week I Wanted

I wonder sometimes why I write any blog pieces.  I have some ideas that I like to float out there to assist other riders similar to me.  Sometimes it is to rant about stuff that bugs the crap out of me but has no bearing on the people nearest me.  And sometimes it is just a way to clear my head.  This would be one of those posts.

My brother killed himself this past weekend.  There is no easy way to say that.  We were very close these past 15 years or so.  He battled depression and alcoholism for most of his 43 years.  As sad as I am that I will no longer have new experiences with him, I am beginning to feel a fair amount of relief that he is no longer having to deal with the pain and anguish that were a part of him always.

As I sit here tonight, I am beginning to reflect back through an almost unimaginable week. It seems much more than 4 days ago when I received the phone call from the police.  I can barely keep a time line of having to call family and friends, make arrangements and decisions, receive countless phone calls and messages, and go through a service, including eulogizing my own brother.  Surreal is barely adequate.

Respect has become a primary word in my vocabulary and life over the last few years.  I have come to realize how important respect is, and how little there is of it in this world. Simple, true, honest respect changes so much how you view situations and people.  I truly believe if more people respected others, violence and conflict would virtually disappear. So when I lost my brother, my first instinct was to make sure he was remembered with respect.  

I had taken on a bit of a caretaker role for him over a number of years and that role kicked into high gear as soon as I made that first call to my mother.  My cousin and I both spoke at his service and it was by far the most difficult thing I have ever done, though it was exactly what I needed.  I wrote my words the evening before, finishing up the next morning after my brain had ceased to be able to compose anything more.  When I was finished, I had three of my family members read it to see what should be changed.  I read it exactly as when I finished it that morning.  And after reading it, I was amazed at how calm I have become.  People talk about a great weight being lifted, and this was mine.  Somehow relating what I knew of Josh to the people gathered was my final protective act and it was the release I needed to really move my grieving process forward.  

Thank you Josh.  Thank you for being my big brother.  Thank you for loving me as much as you could.  Thank you for protecting me from what you could.  Thank you for showing me so much of what I would like to be.  Thank you for enriching my life beyond words.

Joshua David Ronken
Feb 26, 1969 - Sept 3, 2012