I am having a hard time reading through my last few posts. Everything has happened so fast - the phone call on Tuesday afternoon from my mom, waiting for more information and feeling sick, getting in to bed on Tuesday night and being afraid to go to sleep and being awoken by the phone, the phone call that came at 5:57 AM with the bad news. Since then, we've all talked and cried and tried to make sense out of a situation that just doesn't make sense. A situation that will never make sense. Since that morning, I've driven home to see my family and hugged my parents tighter than ever. Since that morning, we've had the wake and the funeral - we've said our goodbyes. We've had the "funeral lunch" and sat and laughed. As we did that, I looked around the room. It felt like we were all there for a baby shower or a baptism. The only thing that was wrong was that one of us was missing. It's hard to believe that she will always be missing from these events - at least on a physical level.
I'm in a funk today. The funeral and "official" mourning is over. Now it's supposed to be back to our regular lives. But that doesn't happen. It's quiet in my house and I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop thinking about how sad I feel. It's a deep sense of sadness - one that extends beyond my own sense of loss. I feel sad for my grandma who lost her daughter. I feel sad for my cousins who lost their mother, and now who have no parents. I feel sad for my mom who lost her sister (and her only sibling).
I hate this part of death - the after period when everyone who isn't directly involved goes back to their lives. The phone calls stop. The cards and letters stop. We're all left with this empty pit in our stomachs, wondering how (if?) we get back to a normal life/routine.
Right now I feel so far away from my family, even though I can get to them in about two and a half hours by car. I'm supposed to go to the movies with my husband in a few minutes. I know it's a good idea. I know that it will probably make me feel better even for a couple of hours, but I feel bad - guilty, almost.
I remember the day that she was diagnosed with cancer - October 14, 2005. I was shocked and upset and scared. He took me to a movie that night, too. It's kind of eerie now that I think about it.
I miss her so much already.