Sad but kinda appropriate :)

I couldn't put my finger on why I continue to post on social media about my brother. Sympathy makes me uncomfortable and every time I post about him, I cry.

He's dead.

I came to the conclusion that I selfishly do not want him to be forgotten. If everyone I know can remember just a little bit about him every so often, then at least he's a thought. A thought or a memory is far from getting him back, but it's also just as far away from nothingness.


When I get all up in my feelings, I research. I read a book about everyone who has ever died at Yosemite National Park. I dug into the author of the book and couldn't find an email address for him, but I did find his cell phone number. I shot him a text, asking for his email address so I could send him some questions I had.

He didn't respond too kindly, as it was 4AM where he was.

When we did connect later, he was unhelpful. I came to find he was simply gathering as much information as he could about my brother's death for his next edit. Although, I am not sure the type of help I was even seeking from him, so it's probably unfair to call him unhelpful. He wanted to get down to business and I just wanted someone to obsess over this type of death with.

My friend Stephen was visiting Yosemite and I had him find the place where my brother had fallen. I asked him to send me pictures of what he would have been looking at before he fell. I stopped myself short of asking him to go on the exact hike/trail and Facetime me, but I promise I was close.

Turns out, Stephen also lost a brother, which I hadn't realized. He gave me the best advice:

"Stop picturing him in death and remember how he lived."

I'm trying. I really am. Matthew knows I am trying. He visits me in my dreams at least 4 times a week. One night, as I was fighting insomnia, I screamed out loud for Matthew to leave me alone, stay out of my dreams for just this sleep,  PLEASE. He listened.

Instead, I had a dream that I frequently have: I keep finding huge and beautiful secret rooms in my house.

Matthew was an expert on dreams. When we went through his house we found bookshelves full of the study of dreaming. The week before he died, he even gave an impressive lecture about lucid dreaming. It took Kendal and I about 4 hours to get through it because we had to google most of the words, but if you're into that kind of thing you should watch.

Matthew Flowers : Lucid Dreaming

The hardest part about losing Matthew is witnessing the pain my parents feel. The 2nd hardest part is selfish. I miss the way he made me feel.