July.

"I lost my brother to an underlying heart condition on July 6, 2008 and two days later I lost my grandmother. July 8 happens to be my grandmother Nisha’s birthday who predeceased my twenty-four year old brother by three weeks. July 20 was my mother’s birthday, “was” as in past tense. Five years ago I watched her take her final breath and overlooked EMS attempt CPR on her cancer stricken body. July 25 was my parent's wedding anniversary, a union they had been celebrating since 1981, and July 28 was my brother’s birthday. Deep within my bones I can feel when July is approaching.

Every year since 2009 I can feel my mood shift and my level of peace decrease as days and hours fade away bringing me closer to the month of July. A month that once provided joy now only provides heartache and grief. Holidays are hard and birthdays are difficult, but nothing can explain the weight of pain that comes over me during the month of July. I lost my older brother, my only sibling at the age of 19. I watched my mother fight cancer for nine years. First her left breast, then her right breast and even after the double mastectomy the cancer came back in fluid surrounding her brain. I often have people who also grieve approach me trying to provide ‘comfort”. Not to sound rude but, I don’t care who other people have lost or what that relationship was like for them, people will always fail to relate when trying to compare death stories.

I often crave love from the ones that are no longer able to provide it. Reflecting on memories and glancing through photographs are now my only options. If ever I am feeling I am residing in a solitude place, I head to the cemetery. If I am feeling alone I rather be alone. There is nothing quite as depressing as being in a room full of people and feeling lonesome.

What gets me through most days? My mother's wisdom vibrating through my soul. I know without a shadow of a doubt what she would and would not want for my life. As I make mistakes that were led by poor decisions I often beat myself up knowing she would be displeased. However, if you ever catch me glaring off with a smile, know that it is because even without her physical presence, she is still my loudest cheerleader.

Death is a son of a bitch, but I know somewhere in dealing with all the trauma July brings, there has to be peace on the other side of this reality. At least I can hope after spending thirty-one days, for the last 10+ years, going through all five stages of depression that somewhere down the line I will eventually be reintroduced to happiness, unapologetically."

- Lauren