Hello sweet, glorious and beautifully dark May

May has always been my favorite month. Not only am I am lucky enough to have been born in this glorious month but I also somehow talked The Beard into getting married in May. (I mean, who could say no to May the Fourth be Tyndall??)

Even though I am not a very big celebrator of my own birthday, I am a big celebrator of our love, connection and partnership. I’m also a just a fan of how May brings a breath of fresh air and new beginnings with it. It’s the part of spring that has already sprung and all of her beauty is on full display…even when the weather doesn’t get the memo.

I think May is a just a great reminder of new beginnings and that if you just keep going, eventually life will be beautiful again.

And then May 2024 rolled around. It was quite an amazing May, The Beard and I had an incredible time on our annual anniversary/birthday getaway, coming home to freshly painted porches that I had a lot of fun decorating, we had a long Memorial Day weekend spent with framily in the Mountains and then my brother decided to kill himself on May 29th.

WTF Chris - you seriously had to go and ruin MY month, you couldn’t have waited 3 more days?? I understand how selfish and entitled of me that is. First, I’m pretty sure I did not factor into his decision making process and second, I do live a pretty, perfectly suburban life without many disruptions that I am absolutely in love with. I don’t live an instagram life, I am genuinely in love with my life and thankful every single day for the opportunity to prove myself worthy to be the one living it. So obviously, suicide was not on my radar, let alone my brother’s suicide.

This is why I know I was not a factor in his decision; although I am generally a “you do you and I’ll try hard not to judge” kind of gal, I would have absolutely forbid him to kill himself and would have readily presented him with numerous alternative solutions with much prettier and agreeable outcomes for all involved. Because that’s me - I’m a fixer. I am great at making connections and fixing real and/or perceived problems.

I think that is why I was the sister he didn’t say goodbye to; because he knew that I would know and I would say no. And I would fix it. But he didn’t want me to fix it.

I can’t imagine how hard it must have been to hide so much of himself from me. I’m pretty good at seeing through people and naturally a bit of a skeptic. Ok, a lot more than “a bit” of a skeptic. I generally don’t take things at face value - trust but verify is always a good rule of thumb.

But I didn’t know. I never knew the extent of his mental health struggles. I know I could not fix him, I do not fix people, I’m only a Grey’s Anatomy Doctor. But I could have helped him. I could have found him resources for him to help himself. And I would have supported him, and listened to him, and been there for him and loved him.

But he never even gave me the chance to try. Which is hard for a fixer. It’s hard for anyone. Instead of finding resources I am left with the guilt of “I should have known. I should have been able to read the signs. I was too wrapped up in my pretty life to see the darkness in his. I should have known”.

And now I’m left with my sweet, glorious, beautifully dark May. A reminder of beauty, love and new beginnings mixed with the ache of a broken heart filled with guilt.

There is quite a storm raging in my heart as I get ready to celebrate our anniversary, acknowledge my birthday and face the second anniversary of Chris’s death. The most beautiful part of my life and the darkest part come together. A day I am most proud of and work every day to grow the incredible partnership we have built, followed by a reminder of my greatest failures and the sadness in my heart from missing him.

The hole in my heart is still raw at times and manifests in different ways these days. I don’t cry nearly as much (thank god, because I’m an ugly crier and I hate criers) but I do find myself getting angry or taking things personal at things I never would have before. Especially leading up to May.

As I look around me I am reminded of the beauty that comes after death. That is what sweet, glorious, beautifully dark May reminds us. I hope Chris found his beauty and I hope I never forget where to find it.