Four years later....

I have and will always have two brothers. One of them just isn't here anymore.

Four years ago last Friday, my oldest brother Jason presumably died. I say presumably because we don't know exactly when or how he died, just that a month later our worst fears were confirmed.

Being part of such a large family, I've seen a lot of death. Family members, friends, friends of family.... the list goes on.

From left: Aaron, Jason, me.

But losing a sibling- that was the worst experience I've ever gone through in my 25 years and something I don't know that I've fully recovered from.

As a junior in college, my focus was on school and my care-free lifestyle, all of which got rocked by one phone call from my dad when he said "Jason's missing".

I remember thinking, "ok", like it was no big deal. He was a grown man, he'd be alright. See, Jason and I weren't that close. We had a strained relationship because of our age difference- he was 10 years older than me- that never got fully reconciled before he passed.

I wasn't as worried as my brother and dad were. Jason and my other older brother Aaron shared a connection and become extremely close in those years leading up to Jason's death.

During the month before Jason's death was confirmed, my family was forced to play the waiting game. The unknown is truly the most frightening feeling during those situations and we truly didn't know what happened, we still don't for sure.

My own feelings of loss were almost immediately overshadowed by my dad and brother's grief back then. Aaron took it really hard.

Quilt for my dad of Jason's old shirts. Second row, yellow outfit was Jason's when he was a toddler.

My dad was the worst. Jason was his first child, his first son and his best friend. He struggled and continues to with Jason's absence.

In the four years Jason has been gone not much has changed. We all continue to live our lives but have more questions surrounding Jason's death than answers.

We still regularly talk about him and celebrate his memory the best we can.

The less than ideal relationship that I had with my brother continues to be something I have a hard time coming to terms with because now, it can never be mended.

Aaron always said that Jason always said, "Live hard, die young".

Pretty ironic mantra considering, I'd say.

Unfortunately now, I think the lyric "only the good die young" is more applicable here because my brother was good and he died young. And although we had a less-than-perfect relationhip, he will always be my brother and I miss him now more than ever.

As time goes on and I get older, I understand my brother more and the type of person he was. Photographs step in where my memory fails to remind me of the role my brother did play in my life when I was younger.

After all, I was his baby sister.

Four years seems like a lifetime when your missing someone. It's so hard sometimes to move on and recover from the loss of a loved one, so how do you do it?

Does it ever get any easier to "trust the physician" within?


"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Just as the stone of the fruit must break, so that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. And if you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy. If you accept the seasons of your heart, as you have always accepted the four seasons, you would watch with serenity the winters of your grief. Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility. For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen." Kahlil Gibran

Why I chose to revert back to being a part of the "Generation Screwed"

Ironically, about two months ago I wrote about and attempted to start a series of blogs about being a new reporter.

Let's just say I failed after only one post.

I can't say that I was ever "too busy" to blog or didn't have anything to blog about: I just didn't do it.

Now, two months later I am attempting to get back into the saddle of everyday writing and figure out my next move. I feel like I've said that a number of times within the past three years but it's true.

My "ugly blue house" in Fort Scott.

Since my last post in June,  I have quit my job, moved out of my own house back into my mom's in Topeka and have fully embraced the title "Generation Screwed".

I'm not thrilled with my current situation- single, 25-years-old living in my childhood room, my  two animals in a different location- but I think it was the best decision for me personally, financially and professionally.

I chose to go from being part of the small pool of recent graduates who had aquired a position in their field to joining the ranks of the unemployed. (Note: I'm not really unemployed, I just don't have a full-time position in my field anymore.)

I became apart of the 1/3 of 25-34 year olds who live with their parents and I did so voluntarily.

While the odds are stacked against our generation and recent graduates, we have something that other generations somewhat lacked: a passion and optimism that everything will work out in the end.

We, myself included, went into fields and careers simply because we enjoyed them and were passionate about them. I mean, I'm a journalist and will not likely make millions of dollars in the near future but I'm okay with that. Correction, I will be okay with that after I find another full-time job that I can actually financially survive off of from day-to-day.

I don't ever think I chose the wrong field but I do think I was a little ill-prepared for "the real world" and all that it entails.

Cal Newport, a writer and assistant professor at Georgetown University, said in a recent article that the passion I mentioned above is incorrectly invested for must of us.

He said, "We're ambitious and ready to work hard, but we need the right direction for investing this energy."

"Follow your passion' is an inspiring slogan, but its reign as the cornerstone of modern American career advice needs to end," Newport wrote. "We don't need slogans, we need information — concrete, evidence-based observations about how people really end up loving what they do. "

He nailed it, in my opinion. No one told me how hard the first year or even six months of my first professional job was going to be professionally and financially. No one told me about how expensive health insurance was and how horrible my coverage was going to be.

Instead, I was always told "do what you love and it won't matter".

Wrong.

It did matter.

But fortunately, I've decided I'm going to try my hardest to let my optimism overshadow what I consider my first professional failure. I'm going to keep applying for jobs- I did get on as a freelance reporter with the Lawrence Journal World recently!- and looking into graduate schools, regardless of how many times I hear no or "you're not qualified enough".

I have to believe that things are going to get better and that I will ultimately become the journalist I want to be. I have to hold on to the hope that I will slowly detatch myself from all that makes me part of the  "Generation Screwed" and move on to becoming, well, not screwed.

But obviously questions and doubts abound. Did I give up to quickly in my first quest post-graduation? Or are we really facing some tough odds in pursuing professional careers in fields that we chose because of our passions and not because of the money?

How do you deal with being a member of this so-called unfortunate generation?

Mr. Bob Marley said "everything little thing is gonna be alright". Do you agree?