Thursday, January 27, 2011

Letter to My Sister

I dream of turning back time in increments to the day of, hours before, days before, weeks before. The most insignificant things are magnified. Disjointed words and conversations float in my memory. I want to  hear you say "Hi Geeeena" or "Oh "**LL NO!" Or simply hear you at all. Know you are on the line, on this earth, at home.

After my year long absence I finally made it back, the saddest journey I've ever made. Once there I wanted to be among your things. Cocoon myself in the comforter you'd been in only days before and release my anguish, disbelief and sorrow. Crying for you, myself, the conversations that are no longer possible. Cry for my niece who is living my oldest childhood nightmare. But I always woke up.

Our family lacks balance. There is no comfort. No words, no "better place" cliches, nor empty angel wing promises help. Not even after oceans of tears. We knew of the possibility, the likelihood, the probability. Yet nothing could have prepared us for the reality. The blow has left us breathless and lost. Your absence is a gaping raw edged wound. Will time truly heal it? Or will we just bury the pain and continue forever changed but unhealed?

I knew you were a loving sweet spirit. But I didn't realize how loving or how sweet. I knew you were strong but I didn't realize how strong. It wasn't until we stopped and reflected about all that you were that we began to understand. Sometimes we can't see until our view is unobstructed. Your impact was far reaching. The people who knew you are devastated. The ones who have heard of you mourn with us.

I will continue to bear witness to your life lived in earnest.