Yesterday I mentioned the stages of grief. I can safely say I'm at the end of my journey because I have choosen to share my story.
I never realised the impact my Sister had on others in her short life. But over the many years I have found out that even for a short life lived.... she lived it and made an impact.
V's Story
Memories of that awful time seem to drift
like clouds passing overhead, some forming recognisable shape – others more
fleeting. Happier times include playing
in the square with My Little Ponies, Michelle’s utter devotion to Michael
Jackson. The both of you, walking
everywhere with your hoods up; Anne of Green Gables and early Jackie Chan
movies. Michelle sitting at the bottom
of your Dad’s stairs getting ready to go out and finding a bra up her sleeve!
Then I remember the Saturday morning, my
parents sitting me down and asking questions about whether I had seen Michelle
the previous day. I don’t remember
exactly how they told me she had died.
It still baffles me that it happened; still doesn’t seem real, even
after all this time. I remember very
confusing feelings at the time – complete shock, sadness and, I suppose,
feelings of guilt. She had been just a
few houses away. Could I have knocked
for her? Could I have stopped it? To have been so close by but not known
anything about it seemed so wrong.
I don’t remember the first few days at
school afterwards, other than an announcement to the year group in the
hall. Then I remember the funeral. I remember where I sat, what I wore, where we
went afterwards. The service made it
real for me. I have a feeling I avoided
you. I don’t think I even looked at you
or your family. I felt sure I couldn’t
even begin to understand what you were going through. What could I say that could bring any comfort
after such an enormous loss? Who was I
to talk to you? I regret that. I regret not just saying sorry and taking the
lead from you. It just seemed so
BIG. So big I didn’t have the emotional
skills to deal with it, or rather how to deal with YOU. I wish I could rewind and hold you
tightly. Tell you how sorry I was. Tell you that I could only imagine the pain
you were in. Offer anything I could that
you might have needed.
Something I DO remember very well was the
most beautiful dream I had some time after the funeral. In my dream, my Mom called up to me that
someone was at the door. I came down the
stairs to see Michelle and your Mum in our hallway. Michelle said she just wanted to say
goodbye. We hugged. Then she left with your Mum. When I woke up, I felt so peaceful, so
calm. It felt wonderful and comforting.
I have been teaching for about 16 years,
and a year hasn’t passed when I haven’t talked to students about losing
Michelle in such a tragic manner.
Something good can come from something so devastating.
So, without the benefit of time travel,
Trudge, I will just have to live with saying this NOW,…..….
“I am REALLY sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how painful it has been
(and still is) and if there is anything I can do to help – you just need to
ask.”
....................................................................................................................................................T+M
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