One Year

This post isn’t about Rwanda. Or genocide. Or global citizenship. I’m not generally one to be open on certain topics and normally that is the case with Kevin. If this blog is the thoughts and feelings I have during my time in Kigali, than this is what I’m thinking and feeling today.

A year ago I lost someone very important to me. Though our relationship changed in the 7-8 years that I knew him, Kevin witnessed many of the defining moments in my life thus far. And if he wasn’t there to experience them with me, he certainly heard all about them and helped me process whatever happened. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t miss him or worry that I’m not doing enough good to make up for such a great loss of life. Which is most likely a very realistic fear. 

It has been a long year with many ups and downs. Times I missed him and times I hated him, frequently at the same time. I worried for the longest time that losing Kevin meant losing the time we spent together, the lessons I learned and the experiences we shared. He witnessed in a unique way the growth from me as a scared, angry, lost 15 year old into the person I’ve become. I’d hate to lose sight of who I was as I continue to grow. Kevin held so many of the little moments of who I am now. 

I’ve come to accept that losing Kevin doesn’t mean losing myself or the moments we shared. He still convinced me to go to church, taught me to sail, held my hand in India and taught me an astonishing amount about life, death, and everything in between. I suck on ice cubes when I’m overwhelmed and listen to Harry Potter books on CD when I can’t sleep because eight years ago he told me to “just try it.” 

I don’t know why the one year mark hurts so much worse than every other day. Maybe it’s the finality. Or the memories of that morning or the days that followed. I knew coming here that being in Rwanda and away from any support system on this day would be hard. Even the weeks leading up to it have been difficult. I also knew that it would be worth the pain and, more importantly, that I would get through it. I don’t think there is any better way for me to remember Kevin than in what I am doing in Kigali. 

All I know with absolute certainty is that today may hurt like hell, but I’m exactly where I should be and doing exactly what Kevin would have wanted.