Grief is not something you complete. It’s a new dimension of self.
Unfortunately, the sentiment “time heals all wounds” doesn’t really apply when it comes to grief. At least not for me, or my parents. Together, we live in a world that still contains my sister as the rest of it seems to forget.
“It’s all of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
Slip off your shoes,
and set them by the door.
At some stage, after Elizabeth’s death, I was given a three-page pamphlet on ‘How to Cope with the Loss of a Sibling’. I have no memory of who gave it to me or when, but I remember reading it one night when I couldn’t sleep.
I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.
We can choose to meet death like a great opponent about to begin an epic sword fight. We grow in size by our ability to live life in its absolute fullness.
Having someone you love die feels like suddenly getting yanked by the collar of your shirt and being dragged at breakneck speed through the clouds and then gently being released into the atmosphere.
When we were little kids, on Christmas eve, she knocked on my door and smugly said, “Hey Kimily, Santa isn’t real.” I sat up in my bed, annoyed that she would say that “of course he is!” I defended.
I couldn’t help but feel anxious about this day’s inevitable arrival. The smell and chilliness in the air serving as an agonising reminder of that cold morning on October 13th, 2013. I will never forget the way my dad spoke the words: “Elizabeth died.” It brought me to the floor. How do you heal from […]