I decided to grieve openly so here you go-here is my siblings day photo.
Just me alone because my sister is dead. I’m here all alone grieving our parents. I’m here all alone trying to deal with their things, their estates. I’m here watching her children grow up without her. I’m here alone, wishing I could call her or have breakfast with her or spend holidays with her or plan birthdays and weddings and reminisce and recreate old photos. I fucking hate this day-all the days-without her, the absent moments that never end. The births of my children she should have attended, the baptisms, the funerals, the random things like some new shop opening or hearing a song or something and just wanting to tell her about it. It has been 14 years and I am angry and I am jealous. I am not unreasonable-I don’t expect the world to censor its joy to appease my grief but I don’t even care! I am so jealous of you! I am jealous of your Easter plans. I’m jealous of your family Seders. I’m jealous of your sister weekends filled with giggles and mimosas. I am so fucking jealous! I am jealous when you complain about your siblings. I’m I am jealous of big families- I’m even jealous of my own children having so many siblings! Sometimes I am even jealous for her of other dead people-people who are constantly remembered by so many that they have busy Facebook pages dedicated to remembering them or regular bake sales or spaghetti dinners in their honor. It hurts thinking that so few people talk about her, that I don’t have anyone to remember her with me anymore. I secretly wish someone would call me and want to talk about her. One friend of hers sent me a beautiful card and gift after my parents died-it was the first time in years that anyone other than my parents talked to me about her especially without being prompted. It was like for a moment she existed outside of my imagination and it was an indescribable bittersweet joy!
I promised myself after my parents’ accident that I’d grieve out loud because no one talks about grief except maybe the fresh kind-moments and days after someone dies. We don’t want to talk about such real emotions and we don’t want to think about death and our own mortality. I get it but for many of us this is not a luxury we are afforded so it is for those grieving people and the people who love them and want to understand that I am exposing myself like this and it is scary but I know it is important even if just one person benefits from it. Call a bereaved mother and ask if she’d like to make plans on her child’s birthday or other important date. Call people when something reminds you of their dead brother. Listen to every story even if it is the millionth time you’ve heard it-that story is a gift to you of a small but important part of that person’s memory of someone they love deeply and that memory is all they have left. If you are bereaved know that you don’t ever have to “get over it” or “move on”. God didn’t want them or need them more than you did and they most certainly didn’t die because good was in need of another angel. Feel your feelings and hold on to your memories-no one can take them away.