Today was Valentina's actual birthday and all I could think of was "two years ago today was the viewing. Two years ago today I stood in the entryway of a funeral home while mom, Josh and his mom went and looked at my sister in a fucking casket, the last place on earth she should have been. Two years ago today my house was full of people that I don't remember. Two years ago today I had to have a party for my daughter because she had been expecting it and I couldn't let her down even more than I already had. Two years ago today my Aunt Jeanie had to pick out a birthday cake because I was incapable of doing anything. Two years ago today I had to attend to my sisters funeral the next day."
Tomorrow is two years since since we had to bury my sissy.
The past two weeks have been a double whammy. We've been reliving not only the dates of when things happened but also the days. She died on Saturday, January 9. Last Saturday my mind was swirling with thoughts of when she died and also the date, January 7, the last day sissy talked to me in the hospital. Friday I was thinking that 104 weeks ago we had her funeral but it was also the 13th, two days before her funeral and I was still doing last minute planning for the services.
I keep waiting for the 15th to pass, thinking, hoping, there will be a shift. Last year there was a shift after the 15th. It definitely wasn't any easier, things have not gotten one bit easier since two years ago, but there was a sense of "oh my gosh. We made it. We made it through the first year. How in the hell did we do that?" Some people say the second year is harder. I say every damn day is just as hard as the last but some days are even harder. The funny thing is, even after the harder than normal days, the normal days don't seem to be any easier, if anything each day becomes more and more bogged down.
Mom has explained to me that she has had to physically make herself get out of bed every day. She told me that during the first year she once wore the same shirt for four days. I have had some very low days, some days where it is literally minute by minute and I don't think I can make it to the next 10 seconds. We've had to go through things we never thought we'd have to deal with after sissy died. Horrible, unbelievably hurtful things have happened and yet I've always been able to get out of bed, I've wanted to get out of bed, to see the kids, to take care of them, to see what they are going to do that day.
The past week, and especially today, mom has had to step in and take care of the kids. I slept for two hours on the couch this afternoon, trying to escape my reality. Trying to run away from the fact that five years ago today my daughter was born. Trying to run away from the fact that two years ago my sister was laying in a casket. Trying to run away from the fact that today I can't function. Trying to run away from the fact that things most definitely do NOT get easier. Trying to run away from all the bullshit sayings that aren't even worth repeating here because they are all lies. Trying to run away from the fact that my sister is gone.
I'm not only too tired to run but even if I could this is something I can't outrun.