Everyone asks that question.
How are you?
I don’t know how to answer that.
Do I give an easy answer that makes the other person feel better? Do I say I’m fine? I laugh. Chuckle a little. I’m good.
Do I give an honest answer? Do they really want an honest answer?
I’m sitting here, almost five month later still just as heartbroken as I was that day. The shock has worn off making a dull sting a sharp stabbing pain. That’s the one thing people don’t really talk about when it comes to loss, the actual physical pain. There is an ache in your body. There is a pain. It is a pain right in your chest. There isn’t a thing that can make it go away. You just learn to live with it. You adjust around it.
How do you look people in the face and explain it? And once again, do they want an honest answer?
My heart was ripped out of my chest. My heart was shattered into tiny pieces. My breath still catches in my throat. My tears still just stream down my face. I hear a song and it breaks me all over again. I hear something she would say, and I’m crushed. I see something that’s her, that’s us…and I just can’t. I literally freeze. I can’t.
Some days, all I can hear is her saying
“Kate, I’m afraid to die.”
“Kate, I’m scared.”
“Kate, this hurts. Dying hurts.”
The images of her. The sounds of her. They are always here with me. Some days, they are just too much.
Today is a day where it is just too much. I really do not like this version of life. I miss her so much.
My #4 only knows who my sister is from pictures. She will never see her face to face. Never hear her voice.
This morning, #4 came up to me at 5:15 a.m. in her toddler just woke up, just learning to sing voice and says
“Momma, you is my sunshine, my only sunshine.”
I didn’t really sing that song to my #4 because she’s always enjoyed Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I did however, always sing or hum that song to my sister through out her whole life.
So today is a day where I think maybe, she misses me (where ever she is) just as much as I miss her.