I lost my sister 5 years ago. She'd have turned 53 today. Tonight, rather than remembering her through tears, I'm trying something different. I'm remembering her with SMILES.
Thank you so much, Claire. I found myself staring at my blank screen, fretting over what to say. And then, I just decided to write "to" her. That's all it took. In doing so, I felt closer to her. xo
Grief is a complex beast that crops up at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. The trick I've discovered is to accept that this is how it is right now, be with it and allow it to pass in its own time as you were doing.
You nailed it, Linda. It DOES crop up at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. I actually found myself feeling guilty yesterday (on my sister's birthday) that I hadn't cried or eaten her favorite foods (as I usually do on her birthday -- which was, by the way, a Chicago hot dog from Portillo's). I'm entering a new phase of the grieving process that includes joyful memories and less crying. And, for anyone who knows how zig-zaggy this process is, they'll relate to the fact that it's a bit unsettling to cry less and do fewer "rituals" honoring the dead. I think this *could* be considered progress in a way, yet it's a new, tender, unfamiliar step in this process. Change is hard no matter what the issue, and I think the changes of grief are especially interesting (and not spoken of enough).
Ha ha ha! I'd love to see photos of that! I actually used to spray it onto my wet hair and sit in front of a space heater to "activate" the chemicals and hasten the lightening process. My mother was (justifiably) horrified by what I was doing. I was earning my own money working at a clothing store and bought the stuff over the counter at the local pharmacy. It was...not the best look! lol
I had permed hair that had blond highlights in it. So you can imagine what Sun In did with that combination of chemicals. My hairdresser always used to tell us off for using it
I am 55 and my sister is 53, so we are about the same ages apart as you and your sister. I feel I understand the bond growing up with a sister that close in age. It was just the two of us, which made it even more so.
In reading this, I am struck by how we all have such different family cultures, but that underneath it is the same. There is the love and the bonds that do not break ever.
My sister is alive, but we have not been able to be together or talk very much as she has been dealing with my niece's serious anorexia and mental health crisis since 2020. I spoke with her last night for the first time since Memorial weekend, and it was good to talk with her, but also reminded me of how much I miss her. That feeling never goes away. I do my best to push it aside and soldeir on, but it's underneath, a sense of loss about time together we will never get back.
That said, she is still here and someday things will be different. God willing my niece will get better and we can resume being together more often in a normal way.
One thing loss does is make one appreciate the good times, the smiles. Thank you for calling this out.
Thanks, Christine! There is some improvement happening now. I have gotten used to giving her space and so now I need to figure out how to be closer again. One step at a time for all of us.
Stunning tribute. Hubby lost his sister over 30 years ago. The hole in his heart is forever but at least the memories, like ones you shared here, make him smile.
Grief often has a mind of its own, but how wonderful when we can direct it ourselves! Sending you hugs, I know how hard it is. ❤️❤️
I KNOW you know xoxoxoxo. Thanks for reading, Katie.
Today my husband and I would have been married 63 years. I have spent the day thinking of him, that day, and my fond memories.
Sending you love.
This is so touching, Christine! I loved the photos and the way you're remembering your sister.
Thank you so much, Claire. I found myself staring at my blank screen, fretting over what to say. And then, I just decided to write "to" her. That's all it took. In doing so, I felt closer to her. xo
Grief is a complex beast that crops up at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. The trick I've discovered is to accept that this is how it is right now, be with it and allow it to pass in its own time as you were doing.
You nailed it, Linda. It DOES crop up at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. I actually found myself feeling guilty yesterday (on my sister's birthday) that I hadn't cried or eaten her favorite foods (as I usually do on her birthday -- which was, by the way, a Chicago hot dog from Portillo's). I'm entering a new phase of the grieving process that includes joyful memories and less crying. And, for anyone who knows how zig-zaggy this process is, they'll relate to the fact that it's a bit unsettling to cry less and do fewer "rituals" honoring the dead. I think this *could* be considered progress in a way, yet it's a new, tender, unfamiliar step in this process. Change is hard no matter what the issue, and I think the changes of grief are especially interesting (and not spoken of enough).
You are right, it's still taboo and will remain so until we can unshackle our beliefs from our emotions. :-)
So very, very beautiful, Christine. What a wonderful tribute to Beth. ♥️
Thank you, Rebecca. She was a remarkable human being.
I will add that a beautiful vibrancy of you both comes across loudly in these photos.
Lots of love. I also had a Sun In phase in the 80s.and yes, it turned my hair the weirdest colour!
Ha ha ha! I'd love to see photos of that! I actually used to spray it onto my wet hair and sit in front of a space heater to "activate" the chemicals and hasten the lightening process. My mother was (justifiably) horrified by what I was doing. I was earning my own money working at a clothing store and bought the stuff over the counter at the local pharmacy. It was...not the best look! lol
I had permed hair that had blond highlights in it. So you can imagine what Sun In did with that combination of chemicals. My hairdresser always used to tell us off for using it
Your hairdresser and my mom could have commiserated.
I am 55 and my sister is 53, so we are about the same ages apart as you and your sister. I feel I understand the bond growing up with a sister that close in age. It was just the two of us, which made it even more so.
In reading this, I am struck by how we all have such different family cultures, but that underneath it is the same. There is the love and the bonds that do not break ever.
My sister is alive, but we have not been able to be together or talk very much as she has been dealing with my niece's serious anorexia and mental health crisis since 2020. I spoke with her last night for the first time since Memorial weekend, and it was good to talk with her, but also reminded me of how much I miss her. That feeling never goes away. I do my best to push it aside and soldeir on, but it's underneath, a sense of loss about time together we will never get back.
That said, she is still here and someday things will be different. God willing my niece will get better and we can resume being together more often in a normal way.
One thing loss does is make one appreciate the good times, the smiles. Thank you for calling this out.
XO
Thank you for sharing all of this. Jocelyn. I hear the longing for your sister, and I understand that feeling. There’s a name for what you’re feeling. It’s called Ambiguous Grief. https://www.mayoclinichealthsystem.org/hometown-health/speaking-of-health/coping-with-ambiguous-grief#:~:text=Ambiguous%20grief%20is%20a%20person's,t%20a%20sense%20of%20closure. Sounds like your sister is doing what’s needed, and I hope your niece’s situation improves with her mom’s love and support. You sound like a loving sister, and I hope you feel validated in that it IS so hard to miss someone who’s HERE but no longer in the relationship that WAS.
Keep connecting with your sis. She may just miss and need you more than she’s letting on. ❤️
Thanks, Christine! There is some improvement happening now. I have gotten used to giving her space and so now I need to figure out how to be closer again. One step at a time for all of us.
Awe Chrissy, now I miss Beth too... almost as if I knew her first hand. Heartwarming stories. Thank you!
Stunning tribute. Hubby lost his sister over 30 years ago. The hole in his heart is forever but at least the memories, like ones you shared here, make him smile.