 |
My brother Orlando & his daughter Briana
R.I.P.
Orlando Ortiz | 3.15.66 - 9.8.13 |
This past week, by far has been the toughest. Losing someone is so hard. Losing a brother just makes your heart sink
into the depths of sorrow.
He impacted so many people, and he probably never knew
it. Everyone who I’ve spoken with, had
such beautiful things to say about him, what he did, what a great friend he
was, hard worker, etc.
It saddens me that there were unspoken words. Words regrettably, that will remain
unspoken. Regrets now dwelling in my
heart that are just unshakable; but I focus on the good times we had, the
laughter we shared and it makes things feel a little easier to deal with. I know I need to just let go and leave
everything in God’s hands, but where do I begin?
On Thursday, I sat at the wake thinking of him, thinking of
the times we shared. Reminiscing on our
childhood. How he always protected me
when my other brothers picked on me. He
taught me how to protect myself. He and
my dad would raise their hands at chest level while I punched as fast as I
could, and called me “Macha Camacha.”
I thought of the life we lived and its share of trouble, but
for all the bad times, we had great times doubled. The tales we told of our childhood were so
crazy and sometimes hard to believe, the same tales we repeated over and over
and over each time we got together. I
remember a few months ago we sat around the dinner table and Orlando told my
husband of the tales growing up….I laughed so hard and I remembered walking
away saying “I’ve heard this story a thousand times”. How I wish I had a thousand more…. they never
get old, nor will they ever. Those
laughs and tears are now treasured memories. I’m just so mad….there were still many tales
yet to unfold, but he left us halfway through with so many pages unwritten.
As tears ran down my face, I smiled while I sat there
looking at him; when I stood to greet a friend that came to pay his respects….I
swear I saw him. He was wearing the red
shirt he wore to my wedding. He stood
there while people made their way to the casket and just like that he was
gone. It was as if, through his eyes he
was saying everything will be ok. . . . but still, it hurts so bad.
Seeing my parents go through this takes its toll, seeing my
dad tear up when we are sitting at the dinner table is heart wrenching. Seeing my mom trying to stay strong for my
dad, walking away to her room to cry is heartbreaking. I’m so happy to see my
parents, but not under these circumstances.
I don’t want to believe today, just want to go back to our
yesterdays; when I had the opportunity to say I love you and I’m sorry for the
moments left unspoken.
I cannot pray for strength to conquer this task. I pray for a humble spirit to rely upon God’s
grace. I cannot pray to understand why
life can seem so unfair, but pray instead for a grateful heart to always give
and love and care. If this experience has
taught me anything it is to never leave words unspoken, always say I love you and
take advantage of every opportunity of writing tales in your family history.
Sadly, this tale ends with a goodbye and many gaps and pages left empty. I do have one more opportunity to continue
the tales of our lives and that is through my niece (his daughter) Briana. I promise to hold her hand in times when she
expects her daddy to be there, and write pages and pages of tales. This I solemnly swear.
