I always think that when this day comes every year, the anniversary of my sister’s death, I will be further and further away from the pain of my childhood. as the day approaches I think to myself, “You’re totally fine. I’m not sure what your problem is. It’s just one day.” and something happens in the week approaching where I just lose it, I just break down in tears multiple times.
It’s because I remember that day so clearly. This day that should have just been some random ordinary day and its crystal clear. Everything that I did. I think it’s so important to me because those moments before I found out really mean something important to me. That day that I spent at school and later after school hanging out with my friends is like this moment that’s hard to explain. Just that moment before you knew. That moment when I still had my childhood. That moment where everything that I dreamt about the future that included her could still exist.
So I torture myself over and over with the events of that day. That happy innocent child that didn’t know any better. That didn’t know at that moment, during lunchtime, I was losing her and a lot of things about myself that I just can’t get back.
But this year instead of just focusing so much on the pain and this loss that I feel, because that’s the really hard part of it, the part that my heart just can’t reconcile, the loss. I’m just gonna focus on all the ways she was that made her a person to be missed.
“on the 11th of every month my friend elizabeth would say, “well we made it through another month. so do we get her back now?” we always giggled, but we really did expect to get her back. its not human to let go of love, even when it’s dead.
we expected one of these monthly anniversaries to be the Final Goodbye. we figured that we’d said all our goodbyes, and given up all the tears we had to give. we’d passed the test and would get back what we’d lost. but instead, every anniversary hurt more, and every anniversary felt like she was further away from coming back. the idea that there wouldn’t be a final goodbye- that was a hard goodbye in itself and, at that point, still an impossible goodbye. no private eye has to tell you it’s a long goodbye.
…the loss just doesn’t go away- it gets bigger the longer you look at it.” – Rob Sheffield