Breathe, breathe in the air
Dont be afraid to care
Leave but dont leave me
Look around and chose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly
And smiles youll give and tears youll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever beRun, rabbit, run
Dig that hole, forget the sun,
And when at last the work is done
Dont sit down, its time to dig another one
For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race toward an early grave.
It is almost impossible for me to know what to say. On the one hand, everything from last week is fading like a bad dream. My sister in law, is gone, and nothing will change that. My son asked one day in the middle of everything why we weren’t crying. I said “you can’t cry all the time.” And you can’t.
I don’t want to make it seem like this was my best and closest friend that passed, because we weren’t really that close. But we had been through a lot over the years. She was my wife’s oldest sister; when Sue was in nursing school my wife would stay up and help her study. Guess what? My wife teaches anatomy now. Twelve years ago, Sue was in a locked battle with her inner demons, with depression. Something I know a taste of now. We helped her past some rough patches, she’s helped us along the way. We’ve watched her son grow up, we were the photographers at her wedding.
Through everything, my kids have been wonderful. They ask questions, they need assurance. They fought sometimes, but that’s what kids do.
I don’t feel normal right now. I should, but I don’t. We’re getting back into our work and school routines, after two weeks of wondering and waiting and finally knowing and grieving. I’m starting a list of instructions for my siblings and/or kids to follow when I finally go. Things like “it’s ok to wear jeans to the funeral if that’s all you have with you, I understand.” Also, it’s ok to laugh, even while it still hurts. It’s what we do. I’ve thought of blog entries, and I’ve forgotten blog entries. I’ve seen news that makes me want to scream, but not badly enough to actually sit and write a post about it.
Finally, and I can’t say this strongly enough, thank you all for your comments and support over the past many days. Most, okay, all of you I’ve never met in person. Yet I feel a kinship and a closeness that I don’t even get from folks I see frequently in real life. Is it all imagined? Maybe. But to me, the cyber hugs and blessings and warm thoughts are just as real as they can be. It means the world to me to know so many of you are thinking about us.
It doesn’t matter how close you were or weren’t. You still have experienced a loss. It makes you examine your relationship with that person, and it makes you examine yourself. Death reminds those left behind that we are human and our time is limited. It’s OK to feel shocked and hurt. There are chinks in even the finest of armor.
I feel bad that we weren’t closer after all this time. There was always “another day.”
We’ll need to go see a movie soon (last movie we saw together was Speed). We need to go out to eat. We need to go to the beach.
Too busy at work, with kids, with life.
Regrets? Yup. Got plenty. I’m thankful for what we did have, but always thought there would be many, many more years to do more. Ya know?
I am so sorry for your loss.
Wish I knew what else to say.
Thank you for opening up to the internet to share your loss. I can’t imagine what you and your family have been through. There never seems to be enough time to do all the things we think we’ll get to ‘someday.’ And for your SIL, someday came far too soon. Sending a virtual hug your way.
Reading your post and comment makes me stop and think about the way I need value time with those I love most (and even those I don’t).
So so sorry for your grief and loss.
I’m so sorry.
You were there to say goodbye – and that means something, even if you weren’t as close as you could have been. Or wanted to be. *hugs*