51 years ago today, my beloved sister Belinda was born.
Come December 4th will mark 25 years since she passed away.
And it still feels like it happened yesterday because I still remember that day. Too well sometimes. My parents coming home from the hospital to tell my other sister and I that she was gone.
I don't really remember the last birthday we spent with her. I have the spottiest recollection of the last time I saw her alive. What I mean is, I'm not sure if the memory I carry is the actual last time, or merely just another visit to the hospital.
I still cry for her. Sometimes I have to catch myself and not start bawling in front of other people. Especially these days as I am rarely alone.
As this day was approaching, I began to wonder what one would call this stage of grief I am in. I've been through most of the others...
Denial. I got over that about a minute after my parents told me she was dead.
Anger? Oh yes, that still creeps up on me every once in a while, but I haven't been full out, raging angry about this since I was 15. Now, I would consider myself a bit miffed.
Bargaining doesn't apply here as I didn't quite understand the nature of her illness. I was too young. I was just taught to pray and good things would happen. She would get better. When she died, well...
Depression. Oh yes. Big time. I would have random thoughts of hanging myself, stabbing myself, drinking poison, and jumping off of bridges. This went on for several years.
Yet it is Acceptance that eludes me. Even now.
You see, I don't really accept that she is gone. I tolerate it because I have no other choice. If there was a way to bring her back, I would. Without hesitation. And she could live a longer life, we could become best friends, and she would have the privilege to decide when she would die rather than have her body break down on her by way of a painful disease.
Tolerance. That is what this is. I had this very beautiful, witty, hilarious, smart, and talented sister. But she's not here anymore and it SUCKS because everyone deserves to know someone as awesome as she was.
I suppose the only way I'm going to accept her being gone is when my number is up. Because at that point, it won't matter anyway.
I really miss her...
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