11 Years and It Still Hurts
My brothers may kill me for this photo, but I had to put it up. Just so you know, in order from left to right are me, my sister Jessica, my brother Gabriel, and my brother Daniel.
Today marks 11 years since my sister died. For some reason I'm so torn up this year that I'm kind of scaring myself.
She would be turning 30 this year, come June.
We were supposed to celebrate in a HUGE way.
Now, all I have left to remember her is her memory, and at this moment, for me, that's not enough.
Facebook doesn't help much either, because I keep seeing those photos that say some variation of "Like if you have the best sister in the world," and I would click, except my sister would never see it. She never knew about Facebook anyway. It wasn't open to other folks outside of Harvard anyway.
I think about all of the things that I enjoy now, that she never knew about. A certain Mr. Bruno Mars. The Matrix movies, and any of the Iron Man/Avengers stuff. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? To be waxing poetic about singers and movies that my sister wasn't alive to see or hear.
She would have had the same reaction to Whitney Houston's death as I did. Mostly because we spent HOURS singing songs from The Preacher's Wife soundtrack and from The Bodyguard.
I keep thinking about how only the cellist got to be with her for any significant amount of time. She has six (soon to be seven), other nieces and nephews, to hug and kiss and spoil. She might have gotten married and given us some people to spoil as well. My children don't have a maternal aunt. I can't get over that. My brother's kids both have an aunt and uncle, but not mine.
I feel cheated. Mostly because everyone else in my family has someone to pair up with. My mom and dad have each other, my brothers have each other, and then there's me. Left to be weird and try to fill the time that I would initially be on the phone with my little sister with other things. No taking impromptu road trips with my sister. No telling secrets to someone who is bound to me by blood, and the kind of love that doesn't care how many fights you've had, or if you had a big fight. I would have someone to call in the middle of the night and they would answer the phone.
I have friends and cousins who say that they would do this, but let's be real, the only person who would have said this AND not hated me for calling at two in the morning to talk about my irrational fear of going to the circus with my children the next day because of the clowns is my sister.
There are lots of things that I did in reaction to the death of Jessica.
I joined the navy.
I started talking to Mr. Houseful civilly again. ( we were 21 years old - stop holding your breath)
I started doing things the way that I wanted to do them when I wanted to do them because I figured death is final.
Now, I'm here. Blogging away and loving it overall. I have four children, a fantastic husband, and a great life. We aren't poor, we don't go hungry, and we get to do awesome things.
But.
The hole that is still in my heart never gets smaller. I find myself trying to hear her voice the way that I remember it in the car the night before she died. We were talking about her boyfriend and how she was going to miss him when she went to boot camp. She also asked me if I thought that I was going to marry Mr. Houseful. The cellist was happily cooing away in his car seat, and life was good.
I feel like I did the day that she died. Mad. Hurt. Confused. Lost. I haven't attended church at all this month, and I'm not sure that I want to go back any time soon.
I realize that this post is literally a brain vomit, but I felt the need to get this out, otherwise...well.
So, if you all have time today, just say a small prayer for me, please? I'd appreciate it.
Hi Natasha - I too lost a sister, it'll be six years ago in July. I don't think anyone who hasn't gone through this could ever truly understand what it's like to lose a sibling and best friend all at once. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
I'm always surprised by every anniversary that comes around - how one date on a calendar can cause such emotion leading up to it. It's just a date, I try to tell myself. I miss her everyday, why do anniversaries have to carry so much sting?
The pain will probably never pass, and that's okay. It's a reminder of who she was to you, and what she wants for you - to remember her death but also what she stood for in life. Go out. Live. Make the most of every moment on this earth you have with your family. It's what she would want. 🙂
Dalene,
First of all, I wish that you didn't know the feeling. It sucks (can I say sucks? LOL!) And yes, anniversaries carry HUGE weight. I'm okay with holidays - I mean, I miss her, but it's not that bad because I can pretend that she is away serving in the Navy like she was supposed to be. Even her birthday usually didn't bring sadness, but THIS YEAR. This year is kicking my butt something fierce and I am grateful that I put it out there, because I don't think that I would be able to deal with it as I have been doing without all of the encouraging words and thoughts and emails that have flooded my inbox and blog since posting. I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers, and we'll both go out and BE together. 🙂
You call it brain vomit, but for some of us it is such a wake up call. I have just one brother that I was just complaining about this very morning - we haven't talked in six months, and the anger is turning to sadness. Nothing happened - he's just that way sometimes. Then I read this... 11 years... I couldn't imagine. Thank you for sharing this. It made me think back to he and I talking and laughing for hours about everything and nothing at all. I miss it, and this served as quite a reminder that every moment should be appreciated, and opportunity to connect with loved ones, siezed. I'll be praying for you.
THAT! I totally get irritated when I see people who still have their siblings and don't realize that life is fleeting. I know that it isn't a call for me to make, and that I don't know the entire story by ANY means with those types of instances, but I just pine for my one and only sister to be with me. I do hope that you pick up the phone and make that very difficult phone call. Sometimes, life is funny. You don't get along with people while they are able to be here and appreciate it, but when they are gone, and it's final that you will NEVER get to say anymore I love you's or ignore them for another day because they've irritated you, it hurts. I hope you pick up that phone and that everything falls back into place with the laughter as if no time has passed.
Natasha...my mom passed away 30 years ago this January (I was 14). You'd think after 30 years one would be waaaay over it. But for some reason this year too hit me hard. I've been a parent longer than my mom was. I've been on this earth longer than she was. My children never knew their maternal grandmother (and never will). She wasn't at my graduation or wedding. She never got to coo over them as babies, chase them around the house as toddlers, scold them as teenagers, or tell them she is proud of them as young adults. But then my oldest said something that made me stop and think..."Mom, you say, Grandma Bonnie wasn't there...or was she? The soft breeze gently caressing your cheek...could have been Grandma giving you a kiss (she was a typical Frenchwoman and would greet people by giving a kiss on both cheeks). That "warm fuzzy" you feel as you drift off to sleep...could it be Grandma giving you a hug goodnight? You always see rainbows...maybe it's Grandma's way of saying hello" Sometimes my son's kindness and whimsical thoughts amaze me. So whenever I feel the breeze, feel that "warm fuzzy" or see a rainbow, I will try to think of my mom without sadness or tears. And know that one day we will meet again.
Reading this has made me tear up. Oh, who am I kidding, all of the comments are making me cry! I find myself remembering little things that Jessica did too. For instance, if you were telling her a story and she was completely engrossed in it, she would mouth the words back silently while you were telling it. It drove me CRAZY, but I would give anything to have her do that now. I do think that she's in the little things around here. Mr. Houseful just commented how Lil' Miss twizzler reminds him a lot of my sister tonight while we were cooking dinner. It made me smile. A lot.
Thank you for the reminder that every day with our loved ones is precious. I think it's easy to forget sometimes for those of us who haven't experienced it.
It's even easy to forget when you have experienced it Sally. There are days when I'm mad at a family member, and I have to ask myself is it really worth it. Will it matter when they or I am gone from this earth? Sometimes I still stew, but most of the time, I attempt to release or talk about what was bothering me in the first place, and move on with life. Thanks for stopping through.
Natasha,
Sharing your story here is helping you and others with the grieving process. I applaud your transparency. I hope celebrating and remembering the cherished memories of your sister will help you during this difficult time.
Peace and blessings!
Thank you for such kind words Gladys! Celebrating and reflecting definitely helps. It also helps to realize that tears flowing doesn't always mean sadness.
I hope that you know you are one of my absolute favorite people in the world. You can call me anytime day or night. I mean this sincerely
Had to pop over to leave you a note. I am sorry for your loss, and I wish you peace and send you a virtual hug. I lost my hunger brother when he was 28 11 years ago. I still have many of the feelings you have and am glad to see you voicing your feelings. It will help. I lost my husband when I was 40, and it left me reeling, but, the loss of my brother left me grieving in different ways. I think the young age of my brother compounds the grief. Keep going and remembering and sharing as that will keep your sisters memory alive and well for you and your family and friends. Take care.
Big hugs to you,and thank you for stopping by and commenting. The youth and potential of what was lost is I think what did it for me. Not knowing what she would have been. She was 18, so young, vibrant and full of possibility! I appreciate you sharing that part of you with me.
Consider yourself prayed for. I have almost no experience with grief and cannot imagine what you must be going through. But I do understand sadness and loneliness and the feeling one gets when they realize that something they have hoped and dreamed for is never going to happen. Never, Period. And knowing that, I send you lots of warm huggles today. Thanks for sharing your truth.
Thank you for your prayers! All those emotions and feelings going on at once can be paralyzing. They have paralyzed. And to be honest, they might do it again. But I know that there is a light, and there are people here who still need me, and can help me remember all of the great times that I have had with her.
I wish I could say that I didn't know how you felt but I do. My sister didn't die. But my mother did. She died from Cancer, in 1999 a few days before my son turned one years old. While I did grieve "in my way" I never "grieved". Not until the last year. There was just so much going on in my life. I was FINALLY finishing college. I was anticipating getting engaged and I was scared because I was unsure. All this stuff going on and I wanted and needed my mom. I found myself waking up hysterical in tears one day. I thought I was going crazy. How could I miss her so much all of a sudden. I think, for me, there were so many changes in my life. And like you, no matter what people said or did they couldn't fill the void. I didn't want a mother substitute..I wanted my mom. The pain and grief have subsided. I find myself just talking to her now, unlike before when I just....I just didn't. Like you said, death is final. I thought crying can't bring her back so I didn't. But for me, I finally realized crying and giving into the emotion somehow did. I feel closer to her now than I did after she died. I'm sure you'll figure out your feelings. I sooooooo know what you feel, though I wish neither of us did. I'll just be praying for you (and your sister).
I am so sorry to read about your mother. And it does feel harder since I have children. I think that this is the first year that I have allowed myself to fully accept my grief. Other times, in my head it was always "Natasha, that was x amount of years ago...you should be over it!" Now, I stop, allow myself to have my moment or moments, and when I'm done, I move on. The moments are always going to come - that's something that I have had to come to terms with. And the thinking that I was going crazy part has happened here too. Thank you for coming through, and for your kind words on twitter. ((hugs))
I don't have a full-blooded sister. I have a half-sister with whom I share a father and I am very close to her although she is 16 years younger than I am. I love her and admire her dearly.
But the hurt that you feel, I think, is akin to what I feel about the loss of my maternal aunt, who died when my daughter was 9 days old. My aunt never had a child herself but she adored my son whom she met only once and would have adored my daughter -- no questions asked. My aunt and daughter are two peas of the same pod -- two peas who talk too much, who can be outrageous and are always the center of attention. Some genes just get passed on, no matter how you try to suppress them!
I have a picture of my aunt above my kitchen sink so that when I am there -- far too often! -- I can share my life now with her even though I am without her. She is missed every day. Grief is so daunting and irrepressible. I wish this weren't the case.
The good and bad thing about grief is that it is not a respecter of person. A kid can know the sadness of grief just like someone older. Someone who's lost a parent, cousin, or aunt, can feel grief just as strongly as someone who has lost a grandparent, sibling or friend. I hate reading about so many instances of grief, but it also lets me know that I will be okay, because so many awesome people come through and let me know that THEY are okay, and that THEY are dealing with it the best way they know how. That there is nothing wrong with acknowledging and pressing on. Thank you so much for coming through!
I will definitely say a prayer for you. I don't have a sister so I cant know how you feel, but I did lose my dad almost 4 years ago so I can relate to the pain that does not go away and resurfaces just as raw at times.
Hang in there. Go back to church when you feel ready. In the mean time pray for youself. (((Hugs)))