Selah // Something Witty

Little white flowers will never awaken you.

Date: 09.02.17 -- Day 51
Music: None

On the 29th of August, someone close to me died. It's hard to place grief into the right words. I'm not even sure there are words to express how I feel. I find myself in a combination of sorrow and angry and regret. G was like the sun at times, both as someone who made you smile at her warmth and would scald you when her anger overflowed onto the others around her. For years she has been battling addiction, and in that time, she burned many bridges as she refused to seek treatment. One of those bridges was with me. In many ways I loved her and hated her in equal measure. There are some things that no one should let slide and G did many of them. I've been preparing for her passing for years, and yet, with her passing, I am still in shock.

It's hard to admit that a part of me thought there would be time for reconciliation. Maybe not with me, but for my nieces and nephew. With her mother and sisters. She had this impervious nature about her. No low was a low for long. She fought back death so many times. What should have been wake-up calls became inconveniences. It would have been easier if she had been a malicious person through and through, but she wasn't. Not always. There was a shine to G that drew people in. She was witty, artistic, and loving when she was sober. In the end the alcohol and the anger ate her up. Her heart just gave out. That's the part I keep coming back to. Her heart just couldn't handle it anymore and stopped.

The biggest fear I have is for her eldest daughter, my niece. If there is sunshine personified, it's B. She's gone through so much, more than anyone should have to endure at such a young age. So much loss. So much pain. Yet she laughter and smile continues on. She's in that place of mourning where anything like sympathy feels like pity and she cannot stand pity. She's angry, rightfully so, and in so much grief. I want to fix it. I can't. I know I can't but that doesn't change the want to take her pain away. All I can do it wait for when she's ready to talk about it, and be there for everything else until that time comes. That's the hardest part of being away from family. When things like this happen, I'm not there to be with them.

Grief is one of those things that just kind of confuses me. It's not death that scares me. Nor is this the first death of someone I've loved. It's the hope that a path to redemption is now gone. And I miss her. I missed her before she died. I find myself crying at the most random moments thinking about her. In grief I get this kind of frantic energy to work. I cleaned. I cooked. I built a bed from scratch. I caught up on paperwork. It's this kind of need to keep moving so I didn't have to think about the fact that she died. It was somewhere in the middle of building the bed that I lost all composure. The tears kept falling and I couldn't stop the sobs. Then my brain seems to freeze, resets, and continues to find more work to plow through. I just cannot seem to process the emotional ramifications of it all.

My mother and I will start a novena tonight. It's one of those things that brings her solace, and I know the prayers to provide her that comfort. I don't know if it does for me anymore. It did once, the ritual of it. Now it just seems hollow. I can only hope that G is not longer in pain. That she can finally find the relief she spent her whole life searching for. I'm trying to remember the good days when her smile came easily and there was so much life ahead of her. Trying to remember moments that were not clouded with anger and disappointment. One day, I imagine, it won't be this pit of emotion. One day.

To my sister. I will always hold a part of you with me. I'll be seeing you in every summer's day. May you find peace now.