On December 10, 2015 I lost my sister, Mary. She had been sick for a long time, but nobody knew just how sick she really was. She kept ALOT to herself, silently suffering, silently knowing she was dying.
I live across the country from her, about 3000 miles across the country and when they called and told me that she was in the hospital, something inside me KNEW something was not right. I knew I needed to go to her, but the earliest flight I could get was three days away and I so desperately wanted to see her, to know for myself that she would be okay. But the day before my flight, I got word from my father, that she had passed away, peacefully in her sleep. I was stunned. I could hardly believe she was gone.
I cried that whole day. Totally devastated, I cried for hours, gained control only to again lose it and cry some more. I was completely dehydrated by the time my husband got home from work. And still the tears came, again and again.
I decided to keep my flight anyway and had 5 hrs all to my own thoughts. At first, I was looking forward to the time alone. But then the negative thoughts began to eat at me.
"You shouldn't have cancelled your trip to visit this summer."
"You should have known that something was wrong when she stopped texting about two weeks ago."
"What do you think you will say to your parents? They've lost a child and you weren't even there to comfort them..."
"How are your siblings going to react? You know how crazy they all are ~ somehow, you know their going to blame you..."
"What makes you think her husband is going to answer your questions? After all, he kept us all in the dark all this time..."
"How are you going to keep from crying? You won't get thru the first two minutes without bawling like a baby..."
By the time I got off the plane, all my insecurities were in control. I was lost in my thoughts, driving to the hotel and later, checking in. Called my parents and made plans to go out for dinner. Man, it was good to hear my father's voice on the phone! I felt like a kid again, seeking some reassurance from a parent! But I could hear the weariness and the pain in his voice and now I knew it was real. Mary really was dead.
Up until this point, I guess, maybe I had dreamed the events that led to her death. Maybe I would wake up and realize that she was fine and waiting for me to show up at mom and dad's place. But that was not going to happen. She was gone.
Over the course of the following week, I spent ALOT of time with my parents; had a great visit with my youngest sister, with whom I never really had much of a relationship. Spent time with Mary's husband, twice, and spent some time with one of their grown sons.
Overall, it was good. So what did I learn thru this time of sorrow? ALOT.
First thing that I realized was that I was a lot stronger than I thought I was. I learned that in the midst of shared grief, it's ok to cry and share our pain, together. I learned that Mary's husband had not kept everyone in the dark ~ he also did not know how bad off she was. I saw his pain and knew that everything he did as this played out was right and honourable.
I leave tomorrow for that long flight home, but it won't be empty handed. I'll return home with a new relationship with my baby sister and one of my nephews. I leave with the assurance that my parents will weather this, strong in faith and determined to live life to the fullest, for we never know when we'll be checking out. And last of all, I've learned that it's not all about me. This experience, though difficult to go thru, has re-enforced my connection with people who are dear, but distant from me. There is a time to mourn and a time for joy. This is my time to mourn and I am not alone.
If you are facing/have faced the death of a loved one and find yourself losing the battle to depression, let's talk. I think I understand what you're going thru and maybe I can help you see another side of your loss. Because there always is another side.
Let's talk.
"How are you going to keep from crying? You won't get thru the first two minutes without bawling like a baby..."
By the time I got off the plane, all my insecurities were in control. I was lost in my thoughts, driving to the hotel and later, checking in. Called my parents and made plans to go out for dinner. Man, it was good to hear my father's voice on the phone! I felt like a kid again, seeking some reassurance from a parent! But I could hear the weariness and the pain in his voice and now I knew it was real. Mary really was dead.
Up until this point, I guess, maybe I had dreamed the events that led to her death. Maybe I would wake up and realize that she was fine and waiting for me to show up at mom and dad's place. But that was not going to happen. She was gone.
Over the course of the following week, I spent ALOT of time with my parents; had a great visit with my youngest sister, with whom I never really had much of a relationship. Spent time with Mary's husband, twice, and spent some time with one of their grown sons.
Overall, it was good. So what did I learn thru this time of sorrow? ALOT.
First thing that I realized was that I was a lot stronger than I thought I was. I learned that in the midst of shared grief, it's ok to cry and share our pain, together. I learned that Mary's husband had not kept everyone in the dark ~ he also did not know how bad off she was. I saw his pain and knew that everything he did as this played out was right and honourable.
I leave tomorrow for that long flight home, but it won't be empty handed. I'll return home with a new relationship with my baby sister and one of my nephews. I leave with the assurance that my parents will weather this, strong in faith and determined to live life to the fullest, for we never know when we'll be checking out. And last of all, I've learned that it's not all about me. This experience, though difficult to go thru, has re-enforced my connection with people who are dear, but distant from me. There is a time to mourn and a time for joy. This is my time to mourn and I am not alone.
If you are facing/have faced the death of a loved one and find yourself losing the battle to depression, let's talk. I think I understand what you're going thru and maybe I can help you see another side of your loss. Because there always is another side.
Let's talk.
