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The meaning of this loss changes—daily. I lost my oldest friendship, my closest confidant, and the only person with whom there were no misunderstandings about where I came from and how I became who I was.
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I’ve been trying to come to terms with impermanence.
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I don’t think I ever understood before, but there are two completely different and difficult tasks. One is grappling with the reality of death. The other is realizing that the loss never really leaves you alone.
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The symbols baked into the sticker represent some enduring aspects of my sister since before she could speak. It conjures thousands of mundane memories growing up together.
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Her birthday is the first of many milestones that I am not sure I’m ready to face in the coming year.
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Grief makes people do things they never would have thought they were capable of.
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I’ve been dreading the end of 2023, because 2023 was the last year that held some of my sister’s joy. I’ve fruitlessly imagined ways to freeze time or turn it back or defy reality and physics to undo something impossible to undo. And now, as I write, there are approximately 14 hours until the year…
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In the seven months I’ve been without my sister, a lot of firsts have come and gone. Halloween (her favorite). Thanksgiving. My birthday. Our mom’s birthday. Christmas looms large on the horizon now, and I can’t stop myself from sort of dreading my trip home. My trip to our family home where I’ve never spent…
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Today I was studying vocabulary for the language I’m learning for work, as I do every day. It has been months since the family vocabulary upset me. I took it in stride when we learned “to pass away.” I made it through difficult classroom discussions that the teachers didn’t know would pierce my heart. Hell,…
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Anyone who has read a fair number of my posts here will know that my sister’s partner—former partner, I need to get used to that nomenclature—has been a major character in my journey. A friend, a confidant, a brother. For the first months he seemed like the only person who came close to understanding my…
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I write this on the six-month milestone of my sister’s last night on this earth. I can’t help but feel a heavy mix of emotions as I consider the weight of my responsibility to live life well, because I currently still can. Six months ago she had a wonderful night, but she did not know…
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It’s taken me a while to come to terms with this simple truth: I am comforted when other people share with me that they, too, are still struggling with my sister’s death. I used to think it was selfish of me to want other people to be hurting. I realize now that I wasn’t looking…
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I have an important language assessment at work today. I am ready for it, I know the material, I should do well. Except I am sitting in my apartment sobbing as I try to study, because I know the topic of family is going to come up, and innocuous questions like “how many people in…
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It’s been five months since my sister existed in the only way I have ever known her. Five months since a phone call shattered the reality I used to live in and drew a line down the middle of Who I Was and Who I Would Become. Five months since I had the luxury of…
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I have been back and forth to this house she called home a handful of times since my sister’s death. I had never been to this house while she was alive—she and her partner moved in while I was working abroad, and when I came home, we all went to our parents’ house for holidays.…
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“The family members might consider seeing a cardiologist as well ashaving genetic testing for cardiac rhythm disorders.” When I read this sentence on my sister’s autopsy report, I noted it but didn’t think much of it. I was much more preoccupied with other parts of the report and how it made me feel. But then,…
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On September 12, a clerk somewhere in a state office administratively finalized my sister’s death investigation and triggered an envelope to slowly make its way to our parents. On September 16, it arrived. There is not a shred of anything resembling empathy on the documents inside. Without preamble, the first line is just: “On September…
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All I’m left with is the ghost of you Being close to you Memories, bittersweet How can I settle for the ghost of you Losing most of you Regrets, a life incomplete I must move forward with the ghost of you Holding on to you Wishes, until we next meet
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Almost none of us are “good” at grief, and we have to be prepared to ride out not only our own highs and lows, but those of the people around us.
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After her celebration of life, we dealt with maybe three quarters of my sister’s things. This, too, was not without conflict.
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I didn’t know what to expect when we scattered some of her ashes, and I doubt I could have prepared myself anyway.
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I had a lot of stress leading up to my sister’s celebration of life, but somehow we avoided the worst of it, and the event was nice.
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Catching up on many milestones that have passed in the last few weeks.
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Take me back to taking for granted that life would just go as we planned it time on our side and— Take me back to the hundreds of chances Time with you slipped through my hands and assuming together we’d— Take me back tobeautiful moments ofyou and meGrowing togetherstarting a long—
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How I handled the overwhelming prospect of selecting “funeral favors” and honored my desire to hand something tangible to those who come to the celebration of life.
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I never thought three months later we wouldn’t have an answer yet. Nor did I think we would be treated like the problem in so many ways.
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Unmoored Sister 