In class yesterday, we were to write from a writing prompt provided to us by the Professor, the prompt was “I remember,” and here is what I wrote.
when my sister was alive. I remember her as a happy woman so full of life, always pushing herself towards her goals and making them – one step at a time. My sister wanted a husband, so she found one, she wanted children, so she had them. She wanted to become a beekeeper, and guess what? She did it. These things did not come easy to her, nothing did it took hard work and perseverance on her part.
Did I mention that my sister was a writer? She used to write short stories and poems, and was even published once in a book of heartfelt stories for teenagers. Whatever my sister wanted to do she did. She wanted her family to have vacations, and experiences, and memories just as we had as children. And so she gave them to them. She took them all over, traveled with them and gave them memories. She went above and beyond as a mother.
My sister was older than me, by two years. When we were kids we were the closest friends, thick as thieves, playing hide-n-go-seek, having bubble blowing contests in front of the closet mirror, the foot wars, and many other things that only siblings understand.
What I miss the most about my sister is our shared memories. No one else knows the inside family jokes like we did. No one else understands how funny it is to tease Dad about his “library of stuff.” These jokes are all mine now and I didn’t want them to be. They aren’t as funny as they once were.
No one tells you how much things change when someone you love dies. Your whole world shifts in an instant. You scream (bellow), cry (bawl), your heart feels like it is exploding, and yet, the world around you is still moving forward as though nothing has happened. As though, it doesn’t know, as if it doesn’t care, that your entire world came crashing down around you.
No one tells you that your heart breaks and you feel as though you are the one who has died. No one tells you that people around you don’t understand. No one tells you that everyone who knows the person who died, their life has changed. No one tells you that you will struggle on alone for much of your grief because others are often too wrapped up in their own grief to help. No one tells you…
It is hard to lose someone you love. It is hard to watch the lives that are affected by the loss change and push through each day struggling to make it, struggling to keep afloat in a world that just keeps spinning around no matter how much it’s changed for you.
There are still moments of joy after my sister’s loss. When I see her in a dream, and we have conversations about my future life plans and she gives me advice. I thank God for those dreams.Tags: college, grief, sibling loss