I fixate on little things. I let them bother or fascinate me depending on my mood. I memorize the little facets of a movie or a person that I like. A lot of the time, with people, it's in the hands. Something in my brain measures a person by their hands, associates their personality through not only the way they gesture, but by the shape that nature made at birth and how the environment has changed things to suit that person's life. It's May, and once again the pendulum has swung back to thinking about my brother.

A friend of mine and I were talking about death, more specifically, the death of a character on this TV show that we both like. I mentioned that it was hard for me to really cry over a TV show death, they never make it how it really is; its all melodrama and miracles. Sure the heartstrings are pulled and you feel sad, but it's brief. That feeling only lasts for the length of the program, perhaps a short while afterward while you balance your checkbook or chat with your friend in the forum. It's heartrending, but it's far from bona fide.

My friend then shared something with me that was rather surprising. She made mention that the only TV show that ever made her cry was an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer called "The Body". So like an idiot, I found it online and watched it and she was right. It was pretty accurate; still TV, but closer than most things get. I think the biggest part that made it 'real' was the lack of music. That's the part I remember most; the awkward silence that everyone had around me.

So I'll agree. Watching this episode of (dare I repeat it) Buffy the Vampire Slayer was like reliving my brother's death all over again. - When I got the phone call I went into the bathroom, vomited, and then drove the 45 minutes my mother's to drop off Connor (my son) before moving onward to the hospital to go look at his body. - Worst part was I couldn't tell my son that Andy (my brother) was dead until much later. So instead I just drove.

I know it hit home for me when I had to let both my mother and Andy's fiancé Julie cry on my shoulder while we listened to the coroner explain where the damage was, and what they worked on to try and get him back. - Worse was me gesturing wide accidentally tapping Andy's hand, feeling it cold and stiff from rigor mortis, actually turning to apologize to him, and then apologizing and feeling stupid for talking to a body. I think my exact quote was:

"I can't believe I just apologized to my brother for smacking his corpse."

But yea, it came down to his hands for me. When I saw his hands I knew/accepted that the foreign thing in the table was my brother, and that  he was dead. The corpse didn't look like him, but I don't know anyone with hands like my brother.

I know that I am a Joss Whedon fan (in regards to Firefly), so I might be a bit biased, but I was really impressed with this particular episode, and really not a "Buffy" fan.