Two years without you. Seven hundred and thirty days. A lifetime. That was the last photo we ever took together. Family trip to Mexico. Yes, she is grabbing my boob. Yes, she is trying to lick my face. She will forever be the most amazing sister that walked this earth.
The first years of losing someone can be a complete fog. For me, that was so true. I will often tell people that the second year can feel even more painful for this reason. We simply struggle to survive that first year. During the second and subsequent years, we are able to feel. This second year was a struggle because I missed my sister’s physical presence in my regular life constantly. I promised myself that after the first year I would be more mindful of my feelings. I would allow myself the time to heal. It is a work in progress.
I thought if I sat in my backyard, with the sun shining and birds chirping, it would somehow be easier to write this. I would be calm and in a better space.
I first tried writing in my living room, but each time I glanced up, I could see you sitting across the room in my armchair. We would have been sipping our Tim Horton’s tea. We drank it exactly the same way. We would be discussing how great you slept because my spare bed is so “squishy.” We would be convincing my husband how great his crepes were, before he agreed to make us breakfast. You would have complained about the long drive you had back home and I would have rolled my eyes and told you that you were exaggerating. I have made that trip a dozen times since and yes, you were right, that drive sucks ass.
Suffice to say, I can’t concentrate so I head for the yard. I spend the next twenty minutes in flashback mode here as well. When I first moved in, you walked the entire perimeter with me. I have zero knowledge of plants, bushes, trees, or nature at all. You took the time to tell me which trees or bushes I should get rid of and which would be great to keep. I am sitting back here now realizing yes, you were right about the awful bush. I should have dug it out three years ago. Lilacs were one of the few flowers you tolerated. My lilac tree bloomed one week after you left us. I am staring at it anxiously awaiting that time. When I look at the monster of a maple tree, I remember you bringing your new pup over and him shitting right there! Your answer? “Grab a bag and clean it up, it’s practice for when you think you want a dog.” Laughing and wheezing as only you could.
I guess what I have learned in the two years since you have left this earth is this. It doesn’t matter where I go, you are always with me. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, you are always with me. Lastly, it doesn’t matter where you are, you will appreciate VERY much, me admitting that you were right and I was wrong.
One last thing before I go. I am glad you missed this pandemic. You would have drove me absolutely freaking crazy with your conspiracy theories! Thank you for keeping us safe and semi sane. Love you more than palm trees.
Your big sis for life. ❤