Today is Evan's birthday. He would have been 22.

I will be 25 this year, and I have already outlived my little brother. That's hard to believe.

I had a restless night's sleep last night. I kept waking up and thinking about Evan. I'm on my 3rd cup of coffee for the morning, and I still feel like I'm walking around in a daze.

I struggled with what to do today. Sometimes I think the anticipation can be worse than the reality of it. I got up early and went out to the cemetary. Sometimes it makes me more upset, and sometimes its mildly comforting. I don't know how much I should go out there, I just felt like I should today, and I wanted to.

My friend Matt lost a brother, a good while ago. He came over the first week or so. He happened to come one of the days we had gone to the funeral home, so he came back later. He told me that the first year is the worst- the birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving. But that it gets better, slowly, after that. He wasn't just there for me in the beginning though- he has consistently followed up with me, along with countless others. He told me the other day that he would do anything he could for me, at any time. I could go on and on about how wonderful my friends have been.

They spoon fed me when I could not physically eat. They did my hair. My roommate went and bought 3 options of black dresses for the funeral. They took turns sleeping in the bed with me every single night, because I didn't want to sleep alone. My close friends are willing to talk about Evan when I want to talk about it, and distract me when I needed a distraction. They get me out of the house on days when I can't seem to move. Everyone kept commenting on what amazing friends I have, and I absolutely do. There's no question.

I'm supposed to go to dinner tonight at Depalma's, with three friends that I haven't caught up with in a while. I knew it was Evan's birthday when we scheduled it, but I thought it would be good for me to get out, especially today. Here I am thinking of how to get out of dinner. I feel bad for going out and having "fun" on his birthday.

My mom went to a "girls only" sleepover on Friday night. The invitation was a cute little paper dress-in fact, I was certain it was for me. It said to bring your favorite chick flick and sleeping bag. I thought this was absolutely adorable, and I hope my girlfriends and I do stuff like that when I'm that age!

She was having a bad day Friday afternoon. She didn't want to go. She just wanted to stay here and mope around, which I completely understand. I can't tell you how many days I have wanted to cancel on friends, only to have them show up and drag me out of the house. We joked about that in the first few weeks-if I didn't answer my phone, they just showed up. This didn't always make me happy. But Mom went, and I'm proud of her for that. And she said she had the best time and is so glad she went. In fact, she made the comment it was the best time she has had in the last 4 months. She said it was the first time that she laughed without feeling guilty. She needs to be with friends and she needs to laugh.

If I stay here, I have every guarantee that I will mope around and be sad. If I go to dinner and run the errands that I really need to (I do leave for a cruise in 5 days!), then I have every guarantee that I will have a good time. I know because I always do, when I finally force myself out of the house.

Even on days I don't want to, I have to live my life.

No, it was not my choice to live without my brother. This is one of those "unwanted journeys" that Dr. Doak talked about yesterday at church.

But I am still here. And I remember and honor him today, as I do every day. I've thought about him all morning. It would be hard not to. Especially about his age, 22-about everything he had left to accomplish.

He didn't get to go to college, or have a career that he always wanted. He didn't get married. He didn't get to have a family. So many missed opportunities. I think about these things a lot. I'm not sure that I should though. I try not to. It brings more pain, and there's nothing anyone in the world can do, because no one can bring him back.

It did happen. Even on days I think I'm still dreaming, it did happen to me and it happened to our family.

And I need to be with friends, and I need to laugh. If anyone loved making people laugh, it was Evan. He had that dry, witty sense of humor about him. A lot like Dad's. There were some funny stories they relayed at his memorial service that I'll have to share at a later date.

I'm off to start the day.