March 8th. Today. Women’s Day.
Today would have been my sister’s 25th birthday. This one hit me harder than the last two birthdays she wasn’t around because my father is not here too. And he would have had me in stitches over what she would be doing in heaven. I can only hope that they are both experiencing all the crazy adventures.
Grief is a funny thing. Well, there’s nothing funny about grief, it demands to be felt. It’s always there, waiting to deflate your fragile balloon of happiness.
That three years later, when you’re fully expecting to celebrate Women’s Day, you remember you would have been celebrating your baby sister’s 25th birthday. And then the pain of what would have been settles in your bones. And you have to push yourself to do even the most basic things.
I woke up from a dream about ingesting ash to this painful day. And I can’t stop crying. The tears leaking from my eyes have refused to be held back.
Before she passed, March used to be my worst month in the year. Her birthday was the light in a particularly dark month and now, it’s just all dark. See, my biological mother passed on March 4th in 2004
I have known loss but nothing prepared me for the pain of losing my only sister. I think I’ve said it before but I wouldn’t wish the loss of a sibling on the person that hates me the most and wishes me the worst.
I’m missing a piece of my soul. And I have to miss that piece of my soul for longer than when she was physically around. And that hurts. It hurts more than I can put into words.
Two things can be true at the same time. My sister was in so much pain from the cancer when she passed. I can be happy that she’s not in pain anymore. That she doesn’t have to cry through the night because the pain in her bones won’t let her sleep. That she doesn’t have to throw up everytime she eats because she can’t hold anything in. That she doesn’t have to cry because she can’t remember anything after a seizure. I can be happy that she’s resting, finally, after going through so much pain in her short life.
But I can also be sad. Sad that I can’t hold her and tease her about whichever boy she was crushing on at the time. That I can’t love her physically. That I can’t talk to her. That I can’t even hate her. She could be infuriating.
Happy Birthday Kelly Elizabeth Amuge Amongin. You are missed. You are loved. You’re resting from all the pain you went through while you lived.