Even before Andrew died I was on a spiritual journey towards being able to ‘just be.’ I wanted to be content… despite low valleys of sadness and high peaks of excitement… simply to be content to exist and to love others. Andrew’s death, though painful beyond belief at the most inconvenient of times, has really pushed me along a path towards just being. People ask me how I am, and I often do not know how to respond other than to simply say ‘I am.’ And I mean it. There are moments in which I feel neither pain nor happiness. I just feel the incredible beauty of existing in this divine universe. I suppose that is part of the gift Andrew is giving me now that he is in another world, with access to infinite wisdom and understanding. He is helping me, his ‘big’ sister work towards true inner peace. It’s funny, because I was always the one looking after him, helping him with problems, helping him navigate this big wide world… but now I feel like his baby sister, vulnerable, and needing his help to get through things.
I just wish he had shared with me how much he was hurting so that I could have made it better for him and we could have lived together on this beautiful earth until our old age. I am so saddened by the fact that my kids won’t have a ‘cool uncle Andrew’ to come and spoil them and give them a different perspective on life. He had assured me that he would come round and ‘corrupt’ my kids. He’d take them out on his bike, give them way too much candy, and just generally expose them to things that I wouldn’t really approve of. Instead now all my children will know of their uncle Andrew are the stories I’ll tell them of our wonderful childhood together. Those memories are all priceless to me, but I feel so robbed that I don’t get to make new memories with him. I would have loved to bring him with me to Saturday Night Live last week, or to the Nutcracker with Robert, or to just hang out at home with the family and make jokes about Daddy’s ridiculous sense of humour. I’m so sad that I won’t be able to go and have tea with him in his dorm room next week and that my little brother Robert no longer has an older brother on this earth to look up to.
I find myself talking to Andrew as I brush my teeth or shower in the morning. I ask him what he’s up to, talk about what I’ve been up to, tell him things I think he’d find amusing. I know he probably chuckles at my mindless rambling, but always looks back at me with a loving smile and a light in his eyes.
I miss you so much Andrew, and love you even more.
Your sister, Florentina.
Below, a couple of my favorite photos with Andrew.