We were the closest family possible. Our world was turned upside down on 05/03/09 when my best friend, the person I love most next only to our children, my sister Trina was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. Her body gave out on her on 01/09/10 but she will ALWAYS be a part of our daily life and will continue to be in my posts. I started my blog to chronicle our daughter's international adoption from Guatemala and have continued to use it as a journal.

What you will find is my family trying to adapt to our new lives that were handed to us.



Friday, October 08, 2010

Write. Publish. Delete. Repeat

I had written a post a few weeks ago and then deleted it. I almost deleted my last post. Why do I keep writing posts that I want to delete?



Because they are true. Maybe a bit too truthful but true nonetheless.



But they aren't the WHOLE truth.



I'm sure I come off as this horrid, angry, depressed person who you would never want to be around much less be a mother. The reason for this is because I get all my Meredith Grey "dark and twisty" side out on my blog. I manage to keep this all in check during the day while I'm with the kids. Out and about I actually come off as a very normal person. On the outside nobody can tell that I've lost my soul. Nobody can tell that I'm just a shell of who I was. Nobody can tell I walk into every store with dread because I don't know if they will play music and if they do will it be Muzak or music that might have a song on my DO NOT PLAY playlist. Nobody sees me ready my iPod and earphones in case this does happen. Nobody knows that I cannot have anyone in the passenger seat of my car where sissy always sat other than Norm, Papa, Beya or Joshua. Well, actually someone knows that now. It had never occurred to me that it might be a problem..... until I had to pick up one of Asa's classmates and his mom on the way to school. As I sat in this woman's driveway after dropping off the kids at school, I looked at her and all I saw was that sissy should be there. That was her seat. Nobody ever sat there except mom, papa, Norm or Joshua. A major, full blown panic attack took over my body. I couldn't hear her talking anymore, I felt like I was choking, my chest hurt and I couldn't breathe. I almost kicked her out of the car and have no memory driving the half mile to my house. Once home I got out of my car and almost collapsed. My legs were wobbly and I couldn't talk. I still couldn't breathe and my head was dizzy. I honestly thought I was going to pass out. So nobody but this poor, innocent neighbor/mom of Asa's classmate, knows that I can't have anyone sit in the passenger seat of my car. Nobody can tell that I'm still in shock and denial and even when I do tell people that my sister died (Asa's classmates moms, my pharmacist, etc....) they seem shocked at how low key I am about it. The fact that I'm able to say those words without dissolving into a puddle surprises me but I think that's where the shock and denial comes in. I save all my anger and dark and twisty for my blog.



This has been an especially difficult week as each day mom and I reliving what happened nine months ago. Right now as I'm sitting here writing this my mind takes me back to nine months ago. I was in the hospital room with mom, papa, Josh, Holly and Julia. Sissy was there too but not the real sissy, it was the cancer-sucking-the-life-out-of-her-before-our-very-eyes sissy. But she was still here with us... barely. In about 4 1/2 hours it will be nine months since she died. A week from today we will be reliving the funeral. After that I don't have anything to relive because I don't remember any of it.



Yesterday mom and I were talking and she asked me if I feel anything. I was quick with my answer because it was something that I've pondered myself; do I feel anything? I always feel love for the kids and an intense need for mom but other than that, no, I don't feel anything. Something recently happened that made me realize I don't really have any fear either. We were driving to the store and I told Beya that the road in front of us could disappear and the whole world could collapse into itself and I would be standing there, feeling the same thing as before, nothing. It wouldn't faze me. I could wake up in the morning on the moon and it wouldn't surprise me. I always have love for the kids, anything they do brings me happiness and things that they are supposed to do and don't, make me frustrated. The kids and mom are the only ones that make me feel emotions. That could also help explain why I'm in marriage counseling, haha.

Sissy wasn't my sister, my best friend, my confidante, my nephew's mum mum, she was my soul. I know that you don't love anyone the same as you love your kids but I can honestly say, now that I have children, that I DO love her the same. We were like mother and daughter only we were both the daughter, so it was daughter/daughter. I always told sissy, long before she had cancer again, that I would happily give my life for her. I would give up my arms and legs and be paralyzed for the rest of my life. I told that was a more accurate statement than "I would do anything for you." And the thing is, she would have done the same for me.

I have guilt. I feel guilty that she had cancer again. She had already had it, it should have been my turn. I was the one who was there for sissy during her first go round with cancer in 1992. I was the one who held her puke pan, who rubbed her back, who massaged her aching sore bald head, who made her eat, who told her to take it easy, who made her call in sick (which she RARELY did), who took care of her. It was then that I felt responsible for her and our relationship was forever changed and solidified. After she had Asa our already incredibly close bond became even stronger. So strong that it couldn't get any closer. We were emotionally superglued together and there was NOTHING either one of us wouldn't have done for the other.

So yes, she was my twin, my sister, my daughter, my best friend, my confidante, my cheerleader, my soul. And the fact that I can function without my soul, well, that does amaze me. I've always known our family was extremely strong but it never occurred to me that we would have to be this strong. I never wanted us to be this strong.

I do know that we can live through anything.

Unfortunately.

4 comments:

Grama said...

we love you just the way you are.
Hugs.

linskaer said...

I don't know how to say this and I truly hope I don't offend. I just want you to know that reading your real and brutally honest posts have helped me to understand a tiny bit about grief and how it truly effects someone. By reading of your pain (which breaks my heart) I have learned to shut my mouth and just be with my friend instead of saying something stupid or pointless. It has brought a deeper level of sympathy and compassion. I think you struggle with sounding so "negative" in you r posts but I think that it is very beneficial for you (to "say it") and for those like me who need to learn a bit about real pain.

I apologize if this is inappropriate. I just wanted you to know how much I have gained from your honesty.

Linda in PA

wy-not said...

Just yesterday in our newspaper, there was a story about a man absolutely lost in the grieving for his wife whose life was also claimed at a young age by cancer. He kept a journal of letters that he wrote to her every day, pouring out his grief in writing. He's now writing a book that is a testament to the power of putting things down in writing - of pouring your "dark and twisty" into writing.

I am so sorry about your immeasurable loss. I wish I could turn back time and change it all for you.

Hugs to you and your Mom. :(

Sandy

Andrea said...

Good golly that girl makes me smile. She is just too cute! And Asa is just too handsome. I am SO glad you were able to go with him on his field trip.

Love you girl, always and forever.