May 17, 2021

Trying my hand at journaling again, mostly because it is part of the program (Grief Share). I do want healing - to clear my ever foggy brain - so I better give it my best try...

I am to describe what I miss most about Melanie. The first thing that comes to mind is: shut the book and forget this task! I want to avoid - I still struggle to even look at her pictures. Ugh! Why this struggle? Why this strong desire to avoid? Just the question is draining. In part, I feel I have lost every memory of my sister. In reality they are there, I have just repressed them for so long that they are in the furthest drawer in my card catalog system. (My brain runs on the Dewey Decimal system not technology generated.)

I so deeply miss our phone calls. I think we talked more to each other in a week than we talked to our own mother. If we got the answering machine then a text was sent. It was not always long, sometimes it was to ask a simple baking or craft question. I miss saying, "Hey, it's me! Are you busy?" and hearing her laugh and say, "No!" (The house was never busy with her brood - lol!) In a sense, the general answer is, I miss Melanie - her voice. The knowing of her presence - my sister and best friend.

May 26, 2021

Things I always want to remember about my loved one, that is the topic of today's journaling. The quick and easy answer is: everything! The struggle and truthful reality with this topic is, things I wan't to remember I can't and things I want to forget I replay vividly over and over again. I want to forget the pain and struggle I heard and saw, the distress and sadness in the last hours. I want to forget the should haves, could haves, would haves. I want to forget how my arms felt wrapped around my dying sister - the comfort it brought to both of us, how she could just lean back against me and rest, our love and goodbyes never spoken just known. I want to forget the grey - the shade of life leaving the body. The cold, empty shell lying in an uncomfortable metal bed...make it go away!

I want to remember the smiles, the laughs, the eye rolls (we were experts), the hugs, even the fights as kids. I want to remember doing her hair - thick, long, beautiful red hair. I want to remember our conversations about spiritual things. I want to remember her love for life despite her disadvantages and challenges of having an autoimmune disorder. I want to remember her stubbornness, determination, and ability to not care what others thought. I want to remember all our holidays and vacations together - ones with seaweed, head lice, rain, gondola rides. I want to remember the special opportunity to hold her hand during the delivery of her first child. I want to remember the faith she had in her Saviour to heal her diseased body, her resolve to honour and trust Him no matter what would be the end result. I want to remember her love for the simple things in life and sunflowers.