In Memoriam

“In Memory”
-by Brittany

I don’t plan for this to be a very long entry today. Not because I don’t feel like writing a long one, (which is true) and not just because I’m a little depressed, which is also true, but mainly because I’m just worn out. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my brother’s death. Trey Landry was only 18 years old when he was killed in a car accident on May 2, 1998. Yep, this is the 11th year that I have to actually say that. I can’t believe that I have to think, say, or write that my brother is dead. The thought alone makes me sick. He was the best person I ever knew – and he would agree with me on this – and will he most likely remain the most important male figure in my life. He was a pretty simple teenager I guess, always wanting to have that new CD, watch the latest movie, or just hang out with his friends. He wasn’t one to complain or shirk his duties, and he always had time for a joke or a laugh.

I remember hearing stories from when I was a baby (this would make Trey about three) and in them, my mom would have laid my sister and me down for a nap, only to hear little whispers an hour later. After coming to investigate, she would find that my brother had woken Charissa and I up, and we were all trying to play quietly. Trey’s excuse for this was usually, “Well, they just woke up all on their own Mom!” He loved having siblings and didn’t mind too much that we were girls. He enjoyed having virtual slaves dedicated to his entertainment. God, we would do anything just to keep each other laughing!

While we were growing up, the three of us were pretty close. No one knocked on doors to enter a room; we just went it and plopped down, comfy as can be. I used to “spend the night” in Trey’s room during the summer, just because I knew we would end up laughing and cutting up until my parents would come in and make us go to sleep. We went to each other for advice, and – although we didn’t always follow it – we were always comforted by the knowledge that it was always there, if we ever wanted or needed it.

Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not saying that my relationship with Trey was in any way stronger or better than the relationship that he shared with my sister, but seeing as how I can’t speak for her, I’m choosing not to. I can only speak about the relationship that I had with him, and how I remember his relationship with me. At the end of the day, that’s all that anyone can ask me to do. I would never want my sister to think that her one and only brother was closer to her twin. I know, and she knows, that they had an equally strong bond, and anyone who ever saw them together would agree to that.

When he was killed, my mind just shut off. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail though, because I just can’t handle the bitch slap of emotions I know I’ll be assaulted with. Just typing this out has me in knots and I’m really not sure how much longer I can force myself to continue. I remember everyone around me was crying, some of my family was screaming, and I just sat there. I couldn’t make a sound. I tried. I failed. I never truly cried for him for years after that night. I was completely convinced that he would come walking back in the door and that everything would be okay again. I think a part of me is still wishing for that.

When my son was born in 2006, I named him Trey, after his uncle. It breaks my heart that he wasn’t here when Trey-Trey was born, and that he’ll never get to see his little namesake in person. Trey-Trey acts so much like his uncle it scares me sometimes. He seems to have all of his good qualities and none of his bad ones. People always tell me what a happy baby he is, how he’s always smiling and laughing, and what a joy he is to be around. I’d like to think that’s something that he shares with his uncle. A true love of life, and the eagerness to share that love with others.

So tomorrow, on the anniversary, I’ll head out to the cemetery and spend some time at my brother’s grave. It’s a new tradition we have. I sit and tell him all about the things he’s missing, all the little updates of the ones he left behind eleven years ago. I hope that wherever he is, he’s happy. I hope that, if he made it somewhere great, he’s laughing and smiling, and he’s waiting to tell me a new joke.

I love you, Trey. Time hasn’t changed what I feel for you.

Trey Landry
November 26, 1979 – May 2, 1998

Want some books? 'Course ya do!

NOTE:  I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.

I'll take care of it.

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