Death Shone A Spotlight, and There Was Love.
So things have been balanced on shaking stilts these past few days. It's been just a couple days since my cousin died on New Year's Eve, but days seemed to have expanded until they feel more like weeks. I almost can't believe she's truly, honest-to-God gone, but then I remember my mom calling me, "They're doing the autopsy now," and it hits me, again and again, that Darlene is gone. My aunt has lost another child, this isn't just some fucked-up nightmare that I'll eventually wake up from.
I hated the day of, because of the pieces I had to pick up and try to hold together.
Mia told me.
I was in the kitchen, humming and making the zebra cake for the tea party we were supposed to have later on in the day, and I was just placing one of the cakes onto a cooling rack when she walked in, face open in its shock. "Dar died. Darlene's dead."
After a few minutes of "What the fuck?" and "This can't be happening," she left and I just kind of... stared at the swirly cake. She--. Dar was gone?
I kept hoping that someone would call and say, they brought her back, Dar's not dead anymore, but no.
I went to go talk to Mia after I finished futilely doing things in the kitchen, and when I tried to open her door, it was slammed back in my face. I was so pissed, and while I didn't burst into tears when Mia told me the news down in the kitchen, I felt my eyes tear up from this rejection.
Later on, Mia told me we had to go to mom's because Aly was alone, and she found out what happened. She needed us there.
Dad drove us there, and God...
Aly opened the door so quickly, and she was sobbing and crying and--.
It hurts, seeing someone you love crying, and not being able to do much about it other than holding her tight between Mia and I.
We settled eventually, and played Mad Gabs while half-watching some Eloise Christmas special, and we wound up going to dad's later on to hang out.
This is completely unrelated, but it's still important.
Mia left for Ohio, and apparently, before she went, mom took her to get her tongue piercing. Dad never really gave her the okay, at least that's what I got from his reaction. Dad made a shushing gesture to us, because Christine was walking in the door just then and he didn't want her knowing about the piercing yet. Sadly, Al didn't catch it, so she told Christine.
They fought, right in front of all of us (Aly, Jade and her friends, and me), until Christine took the girls out to see a movie. Dad was pissed off, and the first thing he said when Christine was gone, to us, sitting tensed at the dinner table, was, "Thanks, Al."
It contained so much venom and anger and hate, and I felt the acid as if he'd talked to me. He slammed around for a bit, and I glanced over to see Al awkwardly staring off to the side, her eyes kind of shining. "Hey Aly," I said as casually as I could, "Why don't you go upstairs?"
He... well, dad didn't like that, he knew that we were just trying to get away from him. He tried to keep her downstairs, gave us a hard time, but I--
I didn't want him to do anything to her.
Now, don't get me wrong, my dad's never really hurt us before. But I still wouldn't put it past him, when he's seeing red and snorting like an angry bull.
I felt so much protectiveness, so much love for Al at that moment, that my hands started shaking only after I was holding a crying Al up in my room a few minutes later.
I made those shushing, cooing noises, I gripped her tightly in my arms while she cried, and there were so many things I wanted to say--
"I love you."
"As long as I'm here, no one will ever hurt you."
"I'll do anything for you."
--but I said nothing more than "It's alright." It was enough, but I hope that she heard what I said, in each tight hug, in the touch of my shaking fingers, in the tears that shone in my eyes when she sat back up again.
It was at that moment that I realized, the people who mattered the most to me, my top priority, were my sisters. Because even if Mia could make me feel like dumb shit with just a handful of words, even if Aly made me feel guilty about mom, even if I were furious with the two of them...
I would never want them hurt.
It's kind of ironic, I think, that the death of a beloved family member has given me such an epiphany, such brilliantly blinding, inspiring love.
Either way, I hope (because I don't pray) that Darlene Palma is happier now, after death, and that she's in Heaven, smiling with her brother, and her grandmother. Rest in peace, Dar.