I Carry You On With Me 10 Years Later

“I carry you on with me

I promised you I would, and I do

And I float around, show up unannounced

In the places that you knew

I draw you out from the edge of my mouth

It feels good to say your name

It’s all I have now, what a wonderful sound it makes”

– Draw You Out by Noah Kahan

It’s been 10 years since my younger brother, Yiorgo, passed away. Gosh, 10 years went by so fast. Sometimes I still can’t believe all of that happened and that he’s actually gone. I can’t believe that my son won’t get to know him in this life. Mr. O would be obsessed with his uncle, there’s no doubt about it. I don’t really have a plan for this post, but I felt that I should write one. 

I don’t talk about my brother much on my blog, and sometimes I don’t talk about him at all, but he’s always on my mind, every single day for the last 10 years. Sometimes I feel like people think I’m “over it” (as if you could ever get over a thing like this) or that I don’t care that he’s gone (which is ridiculous), because I hardly talk about him, or the accident, or how I feel about all of it, but they’re wrong. I don’t bring him up often because it makes me sad. That’s why. It’s not because I don’t care or I’m “over it”. I should mention, no one has ever said any of these things to me, but it’s just how I feel sometimes when people bring him up. I know I shut down the conversation and shift it to something else. I’m aware, but it’s not because I don’t care, and I certainly don’t mean to be rude.

Yiorgo passing away hardened me a little bit. I’ve noticed that. I didn’t cry when my dad passed away, or when my grandfather passed away, or when countless other people I know and love left us. The last time I cried was at my brother’s funeral, and after that I haven’t cried again. I don’t know if I’m not able to or if I just won’t let myself feel that sadness again. Maybe once was enough. That’s enough about me though. Let’s remember my little brother. 

I want to start with one of my favorite memories. The year was 2015. It was July and Yiorgo had been cutting our Yiayia’s/Grandma’s grass. Well, Yiayia did not like the way her lawn was being cut. I remember, and I have videos of us sitting in her living room, watching her re-enact how my brother was cutting her grass and how he was doing it so wrong. “He has his headphones on, and I’m calling him, “Yiorgo! Yiorgo! Make the line straight!”. Then she turns to look at him and says, “LAZY!”. As an older brother I didn’t think this day could get any better, and then Yiayia proved me wrong by saying, “Well, I thought maybe I’ll give you one more chance, but after that, I’m going to fire you for sure.” That’s right, she fired her grandson from cutting her grass and it was one of the best moments I’ve ever witnessed. I also want to point out she never fired me. Just saying. Here is a picture from the moment he lost his job:

Other moments I remember often are when we’d dress up like complete idiots. Whether it’s Christmas onesies, wearing wigs, or my brother dressing like a bozo for his basketball photo, it was always something we loved doing. 

I do think about those end-of-summer and/or early-fall-nights when we’d play basketball in the driveway. Those games were always fun. We’d lower the hoop so we could dunk, but neither of us ever really did. We were too busy arguing over fouls. Fouls that Yiorgo would call constantly, even though I never fouled him. Never, I played clean. 

Here are some more pictures:

Yiorgo, I know I wasn’t the best older brother, but you still loved me and wanted to be with me and be like me, so I must have done something right. I’m thankful for all the time we did have together over the years, but saddened by all the time we lost. I hope you know how much I love you and miss you. I know you’re still here. I can feel you around me sometimes, and I can see you in Ollie. Which shouldn’t be surprising since we gave him your name and he was baptized with it. He acts just like you and it drives me nuts! He eats non-stop like you used to, and he has an incredible sense of humor. The fact that your birthday’s are one day apart still blows my mind. 

Anyways, I know you’re well taken care of in heaven. Tell dad, Pappou George, and Pappou Pete that I love them and miss them too. 

I carry you on with me, always.

Peter