It's been 25 weeks. I've hit the grand old age of 50, the age my sister was when she died. I still can't believe that she's gone. I mean obviously I know she's gone; but at the cellular level, all my synapses say she's here.
I talk to her. I pick up the phone to call. Remember when? OMG I have the funniest story! I can't wait until...... Then it happens. I'm reminded that she's gone and there is no one to share these things with. Not the same way. Cheryl was there with me. She knows me. The real me, the one that doesn't have to be strong, smart or nice (lol); the one who can just be and it's enough.
Cheryl was with me from the day I was born. We shared all the same sorts of things sisters share when they grow up together. We had a bond, a very special bond that all our idiot fighting couldn't break. We spent time fighting as kids, we spent time fighting as adults; although the fighting when we were kids was much more, ahem, physical, than it was when we were adults. The words hurt more than the kicks and punches, though. As I have mentioned in a previous blog, God saw fit to see that my sister and I were in a very good place when she died. None of that bullshit to keep us apart then.
Thank you God!
I just don't feel right. Something isn't right. It's not obvious, others can't see it; but it's there. I am missing a big part of me and am still figuring out how I am supposed to continue on with my life. How can I smile and love all over my grandson when my sister isn't here? How can I -- how can I do anything? It's tough to learn this new way of life. This new place I am in is like a foreign land. It looks very much like it did before; but something's wrong. My friends try, they really do but it's hard to explain and nearly impossible to understand if you're not in the midst.
When your parents die, it is said you lose your past; when your spouse dies, you lose your present; and when your child dies, you lose your future. However, when your sibling dies, you lose a part of your past, your present, and your future.
I'll figure it out. Somehow. Guess it will just take longer than 25 weeks. I hope you all understand. I know my sister would.
xoxo
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Today
It's not an anniversary, it doesn't check off another week of survival, and nothing particularly earth-shattering happened.
Yet on my way in to work it hit me again like a physical blow to the chest, right in my heart. God, I miss you.
Auntie B had a dream about you. Why haven't I? I want to feel that you're still here around me. Was that thing at Dad's house it? Was that you? Maybe I'm dense; but I need to know. Can you be a little clearer? Is it even possible?
Hope you know you will never be forgotten. Love you bunches.
xoxo
Yet on my way in to work it hit me again like a physical blow to the chest, right in my heart. God, I miss you.
Auntie B had a dream about you. Why haven't I? I want to feel that you're still here around me. Was that thing at Dad's house it? Was that you? Maybe I'm dense; but I need to know. Can you be a little clearer? Is it even possible?
Hope you know you will never be forgotten. Love you bunches.
xoxo
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
Letter to Heaven
151 Days, 15,100 Thoughts
Dear Cheryl,
It's been five months since you died and I'm still not quite myself. I'm making changes, I'm moving forward; I am missing you every day. I must have thought about you 100 or more times each of those 151 days. I am sad, I remember the last second of your life, I remember the fun times we had, I remember the bad times we had. I remember them all; and more come to me each day. I can talk about you more often without crying. That's a step forward I guess.
I joined a gym and go every day. As you can imagine - knowing how we are (were) - I sweat something awful. The good thing is that I can let the tears flow and they blend right in with the sweat. I don't have to worry about explaining myself or justifying anything. I can just keep on with what I'm doing and let them fall. It's cathartic.
Jenn's shower is coming up this weekend. This is a special time in my son's - your godson's - life. I hope and pray you will be there watching over us, enjoying time with me and my girls, Mom and Jackie. Seeing the games and gifts and generally shining your love down on my new daughter.
I found this old picture of us from 1967. We're holding Frank when he was a newborn. I love how you look in this picture.
It's been five months and I'm not quite myself. I don't know who I am really. I'm still trying to figure that out. Miss you bunches.
All my love,
The middle one
xoxo
Dear Cheryl,
It's been five months since you died and I'm still not quite myself. I'm making changes, I'm moving forward; I am missing you every day. I must have thought about you 100 or more times each of those 151 days. I am sad, I remember the last second of your life, I remember the fun times we had, I remember the bad times we had. I remember them all; and more come to me each day. I can talk about you more often without crying. That's a step forward I guess.
I joined a gym and go every day. As you can imagine - knowing how we are (were) - I sweat something awful. The good thing is that I can let the tears flow and they blend right in with the sweat. I don't have to worry about explaining myself or justifying anything. I can just keep on with what I'm doing and let them fall. It's cathartic.
Jenn's shower is coming up this weekend. This is a special time in my son's - your godson's - life. I hope and pray you will be there watching over us, enjoying time with me and my girls, Mom and Jackie. Seeing the games and gifts and generally shining your love down on my new daughter.
I found this old picture of us from 1967. We're holding Frank when he was a newborn. I love how you look in this picture.
It's been five months and I'm not quite myself. I don't know who I am really. I'm still trying to figure that out. Miss you bunches.
All my love,
The middle one
xoxo
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