i'm crying for my sister again. in my cube at work. pretending that no one sees me. it's so weird thinking that she is a widow. widow. the words bring tears to my eyes and a sharp, stabbing pain to my heart. my niece and nephew will forget the little things about their father that made him so special. his smile, the way he talked, his stance when he'd call them down the stairs. i just can't get over it.
i haven't cried this much in years. it seems like i cry every day now. i can't imagine how painful this must be for her. to have lost a part of her soul. they literally grew together. they were one person. they'd been together so long during those important years of supposed independence and life-changing experiences that they'd become intertwined. i already knew what he thought about a situation when i talked to her about anything - and vice versa. now that is gone and all that's left is her and the kids.
the thought rips my heart apart.
and oddly enough, i keep thinking that it's worth it. to love and lose. to have something so magnificent that the world stops turning when it's gone. the earth can't cry enough during a storm. to feel like breathing isn't even an option if they aren't near you.
she's lost right now and it scares me. it bothers me that i can't help. that all i can do is pray and talk and listen and pray and text and pray and listen and pray. sometimes it doesn't seem like enough. i wish i could reach into her heart and pull out the pain for just a moment. give her some release. help her to have one truly joyous moment where the thought of life just isn't too much. where she doesn't miss him.
but laughter hurts. tears hurts. worry hurts. breathing hurts. waking up hurts. life. hurts.
she said the other day, "...and i can't have the one thing that would make me feel better." what do you do with that? what can i do but pretend not to cry as i listen to her over the phone. i'm not even there to hug her and say "it's ok, let it out." as i rub her back gently.
