Death becomes her.
I don't like Thursdays anymore.
Today I remembered that I got the call about my sister on a Thursday. It was on a Thursday when I understood my sister was going to die.
I had a girl tell me that my life is a tragedy. We were drunk on a beach in Thailand, playing in the surf under the light of a full moon. She splashed me and screamed at me to stop telling sad stories "your life is one big tragedy". I resented her for saying that. I was happy. Sure, bad things happened, but look how I'd grown and over come such shitty circumstances. My life was going no where but uphill.
Palmira dying has been harder to accept than the others. When my father died it was my first. I was seven. He was diagnosed with cancer when I was six, I was given time to process it. I was sat down by both my parents, I was given books about dying, I was explained everything at every step. From hospitalization, to chemo, to bone marrow transplants... hands were held, tears were shed. My mom was strong for me and did most of her crying alone in her car I found out many years later. For me, life went on as normal as it could.
When my best friend committed suicide ten years later I was shocked. I knew things like this happened, but not in my world. Not in my circle. As soon as the shock settled all the signs became clear, and I realized maybe we could have seen it coming. My heart ached for my lost friend, for my loss, it was a selfish death. Not only on her part, but on my path from it. I was upset for me, for my abandonment. I took it all very personally. I quickly had everyone around my try and fill gaps, I had an amazing list of people there as support. I was never alone unless I wanted to be. I felt alone all the time, and it's not until looking back that I realize most of it was self inflicted teenage torture. It's hard to know how much was real grief, and how much was already there from a prior depression. I still think about her, but I also realize how much I grew and changed into a much different person because of her death. She inspired change in me, in a way she never could have in life.
After that I spent my early twenties feeling a bit invincible to death. Two major losses in my life by sixteen, I was covered. A lot of people I know haven't even lost a grandparent. I had filled my quota and in my head wasn't going to have to deal with something so extreme until Temper (my canine companion) dies. Don't get me wrong, my day dreams sometimes turned dark and I'd find myself wondering what would happen if Marcus died, or if my mom died. I'd wonder how we would go about putting the pieces back together and who would be there, and what would people say at the funerals... What would I say. I never day dreamed about Palmira. She was untouchable. My older sister was going to be with me through our mother's death, she was going to help me sort through Terre's things when we were old and had kids playing downstairs. We would laugh and share stories about our childhood and make light of all dark things that were happening. She was always the light in dark times. She was supposed to always be there.
I have a hard time thinking about the future now. Who's going to stand beside me when I get married? Do I have to have kids now because she won't be the one having them for us to play with... I won't ever get to be the cool aunt for her kids and that loss of children who will never be born hurts almost as much as losing her. Who is going to be there when our mother dies? I will be all alone because all of my family will have passed. Putting things in boxes and sorting out affairs. The paralyzing paperwork that I can never bring myself to fill out.
Then there is my new ten year fear. I've lost a parent, a best friend, a sibling... Is Ray just going to collapse when I turn 36 and leave me all alone? Probably not. But it's there, as a silly fear I laugh to myself about... but don't dare say out loud, because it feels too strange.
Pal's death still doesn't feel real. I've spent months sitting in my house waiting for the shock to wear off. To start to feel better, to feel like myself. To have that "life's too short" realization and go forth and live a fun and exciting life again. But instead I still feel paralyzed. I still feel hurt. And I still have no motivation to even go outside. I want to be better than this. I want to live a life that would make her proud of me. I want to grow and live and learn and be... But I can't. I feel stuck. I'm anxious and worried, I'm tired and lethargic. I don't do anything, and that's not helping me get better.
Today I remembered that I got the call about my sister on a Thursday. It was on a Thursday when I understood my sister was going to die.
I had a girl tell me that my life is a tragedy. We were drunk on a beach in Thailand, playing in the surf under the light of a full moon. She splashed me and screamed at me to stop telling sad stories "your life is one big tragedy". I resented her for saying that. I was happy. Sure, bad things happened, but look how I'd grown and over come such shitty circumstances. My life was going no where but uphill.
Palmira dying has been harder to accept than the others. When my father died it was my first. I was seven. He was diagnosed with cancer when I was six, I was given time to process it. I was sat down by both my parents, I was given books about dying, I was explained everything at every step. From hospitalization, to chemo, to bone marrow transplants... hands were held, tears were shed. My mom was strong for me and did most of her crying alone in her car I found out many years later. For me, life went on as normal as it could.
When my best friend committed suicide ten years later I was shocked. I knew things like this happened, but not in my world. Not in my circle. As soon as the shock settled all the signs became clear, and I realized maybe we could have seen it coming. My heart ached for my lost friend, for my loss, it was a selfish death. Not only on her part, but on my path from it. I was upset for me, for my abandonment. I took it all very personally. I quickly had everyone around my try and fill gaps, I had an amazing list of people there as support. I was never alone unless I wanted to be. I felt alone all the time, and it's not until looking back that I realize most of it was self inflicted teenage torture. It's hard to know how much was real grief, and how much was already there from a prior depression. I still think about her, but I also realize how much I grew and changed into a much different person because of her death. She inspired change in me, in a way she never could have in life.
After that I spent my early twenties feeling a bit invincible to death. Two major losses in my life by sixteen, I was covered. A lot of people I know haven't even lost a grandparent. I had filled my quota and in my head wasn't going to have to deal with something so extreme until Temper (my canine companion) dies. Don't get me wrong, my day dreams sometimes turned dark and I'd find myself wondering what would happen if Marcus died, or if my mom died. I'd wonder how we would go about putting the pieces back together and who would be there, and what would people say at the funerals... What would I say. I never day dreamed about Palmira. She was untouchable. My older sister was going to be with me through our mother's death, she was going to help me sort through Terre's things when we were old and had kids playing downstairs. We would laugh and share stories about our childhood and make light of all dark things that were happening. She was always the light in dark times. She was supposed to always be there.
I have a hard time thinking about the future now. Who's going to stand beside me when I get married? Do I have to have kids now because she won't be the one having them for us to play with... I won't ever get to be the cool aunt for her kids and that loss of children who will never be born hurts almost as much as losing her. Who is going to be there when our mother dies? I will be all alone because all of my family will have passed. Putting things in boxes and sorting out affairs. The paralyzing paperwork that I can never bring myself to fill out.
Then there is my new ten year fear. I've lost a parent, a best friend, a sibling... Is Ray just going to collapse when I turn 36 and leave me all alone? Probably not. But it's there, as a silly fear I laugh to myself about... but don't dare say out loud, because it feels too strange.
Pal's death still doesn't feel real. I've spent months sitting in my house waiting for the shock to wear off. To start to feel better, to feel like myself. To have that "life's too short" realization and go forth and live a fun and exciting life again. But instead I still feel paralyzed. I still feel hurt. And I still have no motivation to even go outside. I want to be better than this. I want to live a life that would make her proud of me. I want to grow and live and learn and be... But I can't. I feel stuck. I'm anxious and worried, I'm tired and lethargic. I don't do anything, and that's not helping me get better.