People have told me many times in my life that I'm a "good writer," which I guess means that my writing flows well, or expressions emotions, or is clear. But I wish I could be a "good writer" in the sense of being able to find the words to work through my grief right now. I wish I could write out, in words, the loss I've experienced, and that by doing so, somehow, I could heal myself. Maybe that will come later in the grief process -- months or years from now. In the meantime, all I can say is OW. Something hurts BAD. A chunk of my innards has been removed. Something has gone terribly wrong, like I fell into a bad dream and haven't been able to wake up from it. And even though positive things also happen in this "dream" (getting married, becoming a parent), it is still a nightmare that I've found myself in.
Maybe I can never really find words that express what the loss of my one and only sister means to me. Maybe all I can do is keep looking for similes and metaphors, even though they'll never quite suffice. What is it liking losing your sister? It's like you've been plucked out of a life you thought made sense and plopped into one that makes no sense at all. It's like being told you can never drink water or breathe air again, but somehow, you'll keep living.
No comments:
Post a Comment