A Letter to My Sister | Ten Years Later
This is not my usual post, but this is not a usual day.
10 years. It has been 10 years since I saw you last. Ten years since I believed this type of tragedy could never happen to my family. Ten years of life, births, deaths, happiness, and pain. How have we lived these 10 years since you left us?
Even now, tears well in my eyes when I think of you. As I sit down and write this, the screen is a blur. The sadness that I often control, still manages to peek its head through even on the brightest days. Yet, somehow writing things down helps me through those dark moments.
For so long, I have struggled to find the best way to work through your loss, often coming up empty. There have been things that have helped me, though not entirely.
I have often felt like there was this invisible clock that I was racing against….like, by this day, I should be happy, and then after this many years it shouldn’t hurt as bad. I have often heard these words in my head ” Its been 2 years, it shouldn’t hurt as much now”, then ” Come on, its been 5 years, you should be over it”. I spoke these words to my counselor one day. Yes, losing you flipped me out of sorts and I needed the help of many people to put me upside right again. I am not ashamed to admit that a therapist was exactly what I needed.
As I told him these words, he said some very poignant words that I remind myself of every day. “Nobody can tell you how long to grieve. She was your sister. You should never be ashamed to feel that loss and you will never get over it, ever.”
So, I am proud to tell you, that I am not over it yet. Why should I be. I spent 26 years of my life with you. You were my older sister. I shared a room with you. I listened and laughed, and sometimes I hated you. Yes, even now, I remember the bad with the good.
Do remember that time you got so angry that you didn’t get your hair cut first, that you stormed out of moms house to go make the “effing enchiladas”? DO you remember that we were both adults too? Haha! I sure do, and we all still have a good laugh about it. Do you remember that time when I had my first miscarriage, when you talked me though it, because you too had felt the loss of an unborn child. I hold each and every one of those memories deep in my heart. They are a part of you that nobody can ever take away from me.
You know what I also remember? The last time I saw you, I was kinds of irritated at you. Never, in my wildest dreams think that I would never get that chance to tell you that I loved you, and good luck. It is something that I will never forget, and always regret.
You may wonder why I am writing all these things for other people to read. I write this in hopes that I may help one person, just one, know that they are not alone, that what they feel is one of the most sacred feelings on this earth. An amazing thing happens when you lose someone close to you. You understand. You form an unspoken bond with others that too has had loss. People can sympathize, and reach out, but when you find that someone that is feeling the same pain you are, there are no words that need to be spoken. We just know.
Looking back over the last ten years, so much has happened. My babies speak of you as if they knew you once, even though only one ever did. There is a reverence there that they know is sacred.
I have been through many of the stages of grief, I guess you could say. I went through many years of denial, followed by withdrawl, anger, and frustration. Only recently have I moved into some new steps. Acceptance. While I still havn’t fully accepted that this is our reality, its a start.
Its funny though, with with acceptance, I found another feeling I didn’t expect. Guilt. I felt this quite strong the other day. As I thought about how we made it 10 years, still alive and functioning, I began feeling incredible guilt for the fact that we have live 10 years still alive and functioning. How could I move on like that? How could I laugh, and enjoy my life, when I know you are gone. I should have spent more time everyday remembering you, thinking of you, and making sure nobody else forgets about you.
I sometimes wonder if you are watching, and thinking…”don’t forget me”. The truth is, I know you are not. I know you are watching, cheering, and encouraging us from beyond the veil. I often wonder if you had your hand in my little girls journey. You must have told her all those things that you knew would drive me crazy, and the ones that would melt my heart. I know you did.
You are the only person I know that would order a McDonald’s Egg McMuffin, without egg, and without ham. Just cheese. That was until Raymee came around, and still requests hers the same way. Who would have thought that McDonalds would bring us such a fond memory of you.
I pulled out your obituary tonight. Its funny, this one little paper, a few paragraphs to describe one’s life. Its not nearly enough to describe what you were. There was one passage however, that was perfect.
“Aimee’s family was absolutely her greatest joy and accomplishment. She was an incredible and hard working wife and mother and she enjoyed taking her children with her everywhere she went. Aimee had an artistic eye and creative flare. She enjoyed quilting and sewing, knitting, crocheting, cooking and eating, but mostly just spending time with her friends and family and serving those she loved. Her life was one of service and giving. Always wanting to help, to lift, to serve and support. She was radiant and full of life. Her energy and enthusiasm were undeniable. Her compassion for people was completely unequalled. She had a zest for life that would not allow her to ever sit idle. She was a true example for all that is good.”
If ever there were a paragraph to describe a life, this would be it. You are sorely missed. We work day in and day out to continue to ease the pain that is there and to remember you in everything that we do.
A daughter. A mother. A sister.
If I live to be 100 I hope to be 1/8 the person you were. You are my biggest inspiration. I know that you are watching us all, cheering us on. I know that one day we will see you again. In the mean time, we will do what we can to ease the pain.
Words just cannot tell how much we miss you Aimee.
Until we meet again….
I lost my brother. It has been 30 years and sometimes the pain is as fresh as the day he passed. What helps me is I don’t remember the actual day he died. I focus on his birthday instead and celebrate that. I have also surrounded myself with turtles. Little mementos of a joke we once shared. I know when I look at that turtle on my key ring that my brother is riding in that car with me and telling me his embarrassing bro-joke 🙂
Debra, that is awesome. I am so sorry for your loss. It is important to focus on the good things. Thank you so much for reminding me of that. Best wishes.
Oh Sara – this is a beautiful testimony of you beloved sister. Grief is a personal journey for each of us…no two experiences are alike. thank you so very much for sharing your loving heart. Hugs to you and yours.
Vicki thank you so much. It is something I dont love to share, but I find that writing does a lot in terms of healing. Thanks so much for your sweet words. They are truly appreciated.
Aimee, thank you for sharing your grief journey. So many of us have traveled the same road and it hurts so bad. I often feel so much guilt because my life has moved on and my son’s stopped but I know he looks down and that thought always makes me smile. Life has so many curves in the road but I do believe adversity makes us stronger, more toleratant and able to give love more freely. So glad you are able to share your feelings and love for your Sister, you are truly blessed.
Susan, thank you so much for your sweet words. You said it perfectly. I am so sorry for your loss as well. It is something that sadly we all must bear at one point in our life. Wishing you nothing but good. Have a great day.
I didn’t know your sister well but we served on a primary board together for a short time and of course I know your sweet mom and dad. I remember when this happened since we still lived in Vegas at the time. I’m glad you wrote this not just to help others, which I know you will, but because I know how therapeutic it can be write these things down. Hugs to you on this anniversary. I know how hard these days can be.
Thank you Stacy. It still surprises me every day how many people remember and knew about it. She was such a light and she touched so many lives. I am grateful to call her sister.
The stages of grief, fascinate me. I thought once I made my way through them all, I would be enlightened & made whole. I never expected that it would become a perpetual spiral.
During a guilt cycle I stopped in my tracks & was told I was hurting them. Yeah, my grieving was causing them pain…whoa! My spiral had to stop. I needed to protect my beloved dead. My suffering indeed kept them near but halted their progression. Sobering.
My happiness was so cheap, I’d give it away too easy. I learned to trade expectations for appreciation. I honor them by living!!!! A difficult concept for me to grasp. I invite them in during the most beautiful moments of life. It has begun healing my fractured heart. Do not despair, she is with you. Honor her, I promise the more you do, the further grief will be. Gratitude is fear & anger’s antidote.
Tonight I saw your sister Cindy & her beautiful family at the beach, it was Camren’s first time. What a beautiful way to honor Aimee.
Vulnerability is a strength, it’s value is exponential to those around you. Thanks for sharing.
XOXO- Melanie
Beautiful words Melanie. Thank you so much. Your words are so very encouraging to me.
This is beautiful and one of the best post I have ever read. I lost my husband 6 yrs ago August 14th and i know everything your feeling. I also lost it when he passed and felt that guilt. I have good days and bad and have learned to cope through the years. As I said this is the most beautiful and heartfelt blog post I have ever read. Hugs to you there are a lot of us out there who know your pain.
Donna, you have no idea what this means to me. I am so very glad that you found something in this post. I feel like this is why I write sometimes. I hope to touch just one persons life. With such a tender subject, it is difficult to convey feelings sometimes. I am so sorry for your loss and I pray that you find comfort everyday.
I think we need to have glimpses of the blogger’s life, and not just the pretty pictures on the wall. She was a big part of your life, always will be. Grief ebbs and flows, like a tide. Sometimes you will feel swept up with it and feel no control over your feelings. Unfortunately grief is part of love. Loving anyone leaves you open to grief. But it is all part of life. You look so much alike. She is a light shining within you.
Brenda
Brenda, thank you so much for the sweet words. They truly are so comforting to me. Yes, I do look like her. Many people still mistake me for her, which can be a completely insane event in itself. I take it as a compliment though. I really appreciate your kind words. Take care.
I know how difficult it is to share something so private. This was a very beautiful tribute to your sister. I think she would be extremely proud of you. Writing is such great therapy.
Thank you so much. While it is difficult to write, it is very therapeutic for me. Thanks for your sweet words.
My tears just flowed reading your words, yes, this is what it means to lose a sister. All of these emotions and so many more make up my days and nights and it has been five years for me. My heart breaks for all the moments she is not here to share, the good and the bad. While I too believe she is with me in spirit some days that is simply not enough, I am selfish, I want more. Thank you for sharing your experience, knowing others have lived through this kind of loss and understands what many of my friends do not encourages me, life continues, it’s okay to laugh and cry. I will never be over the loss as you say but the blessings in my life are many.
Diva, I am so sorry for your loss. I hope you can find comfort. I know it is so hard to find sometimes. I too am selfish and wish we could have more too. It feels so unfair, but this is our reality. Thank you so much for reaching out and I hope you have a great week.
Such a beautiful post and I’m so glad I stumbled upon it…. My mother passed away 3 1/2 years ago and I’ve noticed the grief comes in waves. Once, I was eating dinner with my husband and for no reason at all I burst into tears. I still to this day cannot articulate exactly why… It almost felt more physically necessary than emotional… And one day I saw a woman walking to her car from a store I was about to enter and I had to turn around, get in my car and go home. Why? She looked just like my mom. I cried all the way home. And today? Today is my birthday. I’m a mess…. and I’m 63 years old. Goodness… you’d think I, too, would be over it. Your counselor is absolutely right on. You never get over it. You learn to cope as best you can… you try to fill up the space. But there will always be a space….
The greatest comfort is knowing we meet few people each day who are not also experiencing their stories of loss. It should make us more kind and compassionate…. thank you for this important vulnerable post…
Cindy, thank you so much for opening up your heart! Such tender experiences and I am grateful you spoke them to me. It is amazing how we respond physically sometimes not necessarily emotionally. Once, when we were on vacation in Hawaii we were hiking at the sacred Waimea Falls and I walked by this lady that looked just like my sister. I was a complete wreck the rest of the day. I was so distracted by what i had seen, and it was all I could think about. I pray for you to have comfort, its what we all seem to need these days. Here’s to a great week!
I lost my sister Char 20 November 11, 1996. On this November 11, 2016, my niece Rachel will be married – she wants a happy memory of that date. As a family it’s a hard day and it’s sometimes hard to think about the joy we will feel that day, but as an aunt, I’m so proud of my niece and her choice.
Thank you for sharing your story – I wish you comfort.
So sorry for your loss. What a great idea to be create some wonderful memories to help brighten the day. Thanks for your kind words! XOXO
It must have been hard for you to share this post, but I’m glad you did. It is beautifully written. I also lost my sister 10 years ago and it definitely still hurts. Having a strong faith is the one thing that does make it easier….sending prayers your way.
This is so beautiful, it bought tears to my eyes! This is a wonderful tribute to her!
Hugs Maria
My brother’s birthday is August 17th. When he was 23 he died in a car accident along with the 4 friends he was driving home with. I had just turned 30 . I’m about to turn 65 and even after all these years, that deep heartache is still felt. I live my life in his honor. Still makes me so sad to know he didn’t get to accomplish his goals and dreams. I say it gets harder and easier simultaneously to be without them…if that makes any sense.
SO sorry for your loss! Its so great to have a community of wonderful, caring people to mourn with.
Losing someone who isn’t supposed to die is nearly impossible for my heart to grasp. Babies don’t DIE. 5 year olds DON’T DIE. Sisters DON’T DIE! And lea’ve behind young families. I get it. Honestly, the crushing, debilitating pain does ease somewhat, but what lingers is so terrifyingly paralyzing at times. Brief moments when all you want is to touch them. To take in their presence. To give them your very BREATH that they might live. If only that moment. But you know in your heart, that even then, you’d never let them go.
May your sissy rest in His arms until that sweet, sweet day when you ate reunited.