The rip current of grief pulled me so far under. I wasn’t sure I was going to get back up. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. I hit hard this time. I fell so hard.
Summer without my sister is heartbreaking. Everywhere I look in my yard, she should be there. Every morning I wake up to a sunny day, she should be here.
I built my home up to be my sanctuary. It is humble. Full of peace. My zen structure in this fast paced world. I openly share my space with my siblings. They come when they need or want to. My sister took full of advantage of that and was here often. My home is full of memories of my life with my husband and children. My home is full of memories of my life as a sister and aunt as well.
I still see my nephews regularly. I get to view bits and pieces of her living on through her boys.
BUT…At times, it makes me miss her more.
I want her smile, hug, laugh. I look around and there are memories everywhere. I’ve given serious thought to moving. Making a fresh start. A place where the memories are just memories. Not living memories. Moments I relive everyday because I am in the space we were together.
The last six weeks I’ve been reliving her last summer. Over and over again in my mind. Calls. Messages. Texts. Doctor visits. Conversations. Everything.
How is it that last year, at this exact time, her cancer slowed a little, then…three months later, she was gone??
I knew this summer would be hard. I do the whole grief coping skill “come up with a plan”. But for now, it’s disheartening. No plan works. No back up plan to that plan. It all steals my ability to breathe, re-opening the gaping wound in my heart over and over again.
The sun is shining, but I miss my rainbow.