I just miss her so much. With every breath I take, I struggle. I’m fighting so hard, but I just want to lay down and not move. I don’t want this version of life. I feel like it is nothing but broken. I have felt this for the past few days. But it’s not a new feeling.
The days between my sister’s diagnosis and first surgery where a dense fog of overwhelming melancholy. Opening my eyes in the morning gave way to the potential that today could be worse than yesterday. As I write this, I know how completely negative this sounds. Be assured, it was never negativity. It was always reality.
My sister and I were both pregnant at the time. Her five months and me having just found out. As her and I talked to doctor after doctor, specialist upon specialist, they ALL repeated the same thing. Delaying treatment would be fatal. She had been diagnosed with Malignant Melanoma. In the beginning it was Stage 2. Skin cancer, when treated early, has high survival rates. However, advanced Malignant Melanoma has no treatment.
At this point, my sister would make the choice for her son to live.
At this point, my heart shattered.
This was the first time my heart would physically hurt from the pain I was feeling. Looking at her knowing the decision she was making would eventually end her life just ripped me to shreds. Looking at her knowing she would eventually be a memory, a story I tell my kids and hers. Everything in me broke that day.
I didn’t want this version of life. I just didn’t. I didn’t want to have to be the strong one for her. I wanted to crawl in a dark hole. I wanted it to be me instead of her. I shouldn’t have to see my baby sister die. I shouldn’t have to watch it. She didn’t deserve this. She was always the light in the room. And now, I’d have to watch her light fade.