Letter

Dear Jen,

You’ve been gone just over a year.  A lot has happened in that time.  I’m still struggling each and every day to comprehend why you had to die and leave all of us here, what purpose your death serves, because it seems so senseless to me.  So incredibly unfair.

I see your face every day.  In my mind.  On the fridge where you look at me, smiling with your daughter.  At the computer, where I keep a picture of us as kids.  We’re sitting on a rock and you have my hand in yours.  I must be 3 or 4 years old and our hair is in matching pigtails.  Some people used to say we looked like twins; others said we resembled each other somewhat but in this picture I think we look very much like sisters.

It is so lonely and strange to be Mom and Dad’s only daughter now.  I don’t consider myself an only child; I have a sister but you are dead.  But you were alive for many years and all of my memories of life include you so it’s wrong to say I’m an only child.  I’m just alone now is all.

The other day Dad walked me and Sunshine home and as he left, he kissed her good-bye and then leaned in to kiss me too, saying Goodbye darling and the look of pain and sadness in his eyes was evident and his voice got a little softer.  I know he was thinking about you, then, probably about how he can’t do that to you anymore and I wanted to cry.

I didn’t cry then but I do all the time when I’m alone…great big sobs, loud and tearful; silent tears that slip down my cheeks onto my chest; little whimpers of sadness.  My  pain comes out in so many different ways but in the end it’s all the same: I miss you terribly, so, so much that I will never be able to express it in words.  My heart is heavy and I feel dull.  Even when I’m smiling or laughing, it’s not the same as before.  And it never will be again.

Love, me.

Thinking

My parents and I never spoke about my sister on her one year death day anniversary.  We did talk on the phone, but our conversation revolved around Ashley’s first day of school.  I got the scoop on the teacher, the other kids, activities, etc., but they never asked me if I had gone to the cemetery.  Maybe they assumed I would, since Claire was visiting.  There aren’t many people who read this who don’t already know, but let me explain anyway.  Claire is my oldest friend in the world, since we were 3 years old.  I know everything about her family and vice versa.  So it was only fitting that she be here with me to commemorate the day.

I just find it so strange that we can’t talk about it.  I’m not sure if I want to because seeing my mom cry is incredibly difficult.  But not talking about it makes it feel that much bigger and more present in the conversation.

There were flowers at the cemetery on my sister and my uncle’s grave, indicating my parents had been there recently.  And when they go back, they’ll see mine and know it was me, because it wouldn’t be anybody else.  I know my brother-in-law doesn’t go there much.  Everyone has their own way to commemorate those they’ve lost.  Perhaps standing by a grave just isn’t his thing and that’s ok.

I’ve cried more on other days than I did on Monday.  But that doesn’t mean I miss her or think about her any less.  It’s painful every day, in more ways than I can describe, from the lonliness to the incredible sadness to the yearning for her to seeing my daughter change in some way and wishing on everything I have that she could see this happening.

365

The number of days since my sister died.

Very heavy heart this weekend as I re-live the days of one year ago. A friend is visiting thru Tuesday. Perhaps it will be a bit of a distraction. i’m planning on going to the cemetery and I still can’t believe I have to bring two bouquets of flowers now instead of one…or that I have to be doing this at all.

Thursday

Today is the funeral.

In a number of hours I’ll be graveside, mere feet from where my sister is buried.  This feels so surreal.  I haven’t been to the cemetery in months.  In a few weeks we’ll be back there for the unveiling of her headstone.  But for today, it is all about my uncle and the life he lived, the people he touched.  Again I’m left wondering why.  Just why.

Another Day

I can always tell when I hear my dad’s voice when something is wrong.  He is quiet and soft spoken to begin with; when bearing bad news, his voice drops an octave, becomes extra serious.

Today was no different when he called to tell me that my uncle had died yesterday, on my parent’s 40th wedding anniversary.

My parents have been away, resting in sunny skies while my brother in law and my niece have been at the beach.  They knew my uncle had not been feeling well all of last week and had already made plans to be with him for more testing which was scheduled to begin today; but he died early Sunday morning, before they could get there.

And now it begins again, planning a funeral, just 2 weeks shy of my sister’s year anniversary of her death.  We’ll be by her gravesite in a number of days, mourning this loss and burying another member of our family in our new family plot.  None of us ever thought anything like this would happen this soon.  We knew he was sick.  But he died out of the blue.  And the only one who was there with him was my other uncle.

In less than one year my mother has lost her daughter and a brother.  I am so sad for her right now.  I’m also devastated that my uncle never got the chance to meet my daughter.  I’m left wondering, again, what happens when you die, where do you go, and can it be possible that he and my sister are together?  Is everything I’ve ever been taught to believe true or is my mind filled with misconceptions about death and the afterlife, if something like that truly does exist.

Thought

Smile for the day: hearing Baby Got Back on the radio.  Also, my wedding ring finally fits again.