80 days ago*, I moved to an entirely new country on the other side of the world. That had been the plan since before my sister’s death. And so life marches on. In those 80 days I’ve lived life—nested in a new home, tried to start building a new social network, had my heart damaged just a little, done adventurous things I never would have thought I would do, and (at least for now) become oddly more comfortable with floating in a liminal space and taking life day by day.
It wasn’t until a week ago that I felt the draw to return to this blog and write. I think it’s no coincidence that a week ago I took my first vacation in nearly two years and existed just as me, Sarah, out in the world without the protective shell of chores or work to distract me. For better or for worse, I had to sit with just myself and experience what that is like in this new phase of life.
It’s hard to believe how quickly I’m hurtling through the “seconds” of everything—year 2, the second time doing ____ without my sister there. So much has changed, but also not as much as I expected. Some of the drama and bullshit from year 1 has restarted in year 2. The ever-present background noise of my yearning for my sister has not gone away, but I have gotten a little better at temporarily ignoring it. I assume I have changed a lot, but I can’t clearly remember the person I used to be anymore. I am not sure she ever existed.
But I’m still here, and I have more to say. You’re still here—on this blog, if you’re reading, but also in the larger sense. There’s something that feels very important about that, even if I can’t put an eloquent on the screen to describe it.
*Did I do this compulsive quantifying of lengths of times and distances before my sister’s death? I honestly couldn’t tell you.
Unmoored Sister 