August is always such a sad month for me. Although I have many things to look forward to, I can't help but to think about what happened this month all those years ago. How it haunts me today. I remember that day back when I was only thirteen and starting to grow up. It had been September I believe. We had just moved. It was cloudy outside and cold. My brother and I had been just dropped off at the house by our beloved grandpa who had picked us up from school.
Who would have know those ten minutes of being home would have changed my life forever. As I write this I am close to tears. Its weird mourning someone you've never met. But I have been since I first found out about her. Although it didn't really hit me until I grew up. Until that harsh numbness that coated me, wore off. It was then that I realized my sister was real and not some fictional character in one of my mom's movies.
This Augusta marks her twenty-fourth birthday. It's like a song that repeats in the back of your mind, never going away and when it stops it comes back just minutes later, leaving you no peace. I supposed its something like that. It's hard to believe it's real. But the void is obvious in this household. The way my dad says her name, it breaks my heart. A while back I had been pet sitting my grandma's doggie and stayed at her house while doing so. I took down the only proof of my sister's evidence. A little red photo book. Inside was the most beautiful poem about her written by my grandma. It not only made me realize my writing skill most likely came from her but that this little person and I looked so much alike.
But that she was real.
And very loved.
And all those bad feelings I had towards my parents for keeping her a secret melted off. And I was finally able to mourn. They believe that once you are dead you are gone. That there isn't a point in visiting the grave. I am not like them. I've been searching for that grave for a few years now. And it pains me knowing I have to go back. I have to find her.
I'll never be able to meet her in this life time. But visiting that grave, see the proof. Letting myself see she's really gone, not switched, not lost. But gone. Will help me more than anything. Losing someone is hard. By the time I was in high school I had lost three beloved family members. I had to grow up very quickly.
She is always on my mind. I try to picture her, what she would look like now, but it's hard. At times when I alone I sit pretending she's next to me, smiling. When I can't smile I picture her smiling and somehow it helps. I hope we'll be able to be sisters again in another life time. So I can finally get to know what it's like.
I remember in high school, two sisters were fighting. I said very loudly "Why do sisters have to fight? Don't they know how lucky they are to have each other?" I stay true to those words. I refuse to fight with my brother, although I do tattle on him. Because what little sister doesn't? We have never been close. Never shared a conversation. Never said "Thank you." But he's the same as I. We both stare out the windows in wonder. Picturing what it would be like if she were here too.
It's a empty void that visits every August. But never really goes away. I used to say I'm living for her. But now that my life has stabilized, I realized that was just to ease myself into life. Now I'm living for myself but it doesn't mean I've forgotten her or ever will really. Even if I didn't know her. I know her. She'll always be here.
August is a very hard month for us. We lost someone very important. Someone who should have lived a full life. This year I might be lucky and stumble upon that little grave. I'll drop a single pink rose and whisper hello.
I'm your sister.
And I love you very much.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment