first it was coping with the drive home from the hospital with a feeling completely the opposite to leaving following a birth. that endless joy and promise of new life. driving to the hospital i had the radio on with the hope that music from our growing up days might revive the possibilities of her getting better, pulling through.
it was past midnight the streets were dark i was probably slightly over the limit. i stopped for red lights i drove fast over speed bumps. i hared up the road and fast parked to be there for her. running like a woman possesed up the deserted hospital stepped. i could save her if anyone could. that's what we all thought.
driving home some hours later with a sister for support i was shaky and shocked to put it lightly. it was a new dawn a sad dawn. for us a tragic dawn. we were encased in a sense of unreality. we hugged on the steps of the hospital leaving our sister behind there with no more breath.
what a strange morning.
i had made tea for my brothers and sisters while we had waited in the intensive care waiting room at kings. we waited for hope to win out against despair and making tea had been a comfort, a way to settle frayed anxiety and sorrow.
the days that passed then were a haze; a daze. endless evening drinking and despair. anything to cloud the horrid truth that our big sister had gone away to return no more.
then the funeral; the preparations the strange dealing with strange people who trade in death and spaces for the dead to reside. the strange truth of grave diggers waiting to be paid so they can dig a hole.
the planning of her party; fairy lights flowers, photos...her music her singing..
kept me going.
then despair once more. no hope of seeing her again. time marching on.
and then i steeled myself to return to her empty flat once more to take apart the remnants of her life. to see the orphaned belongings and to make light work of a most distressing reality.
now i am cold. and driven by a impulse to be resilient.
just now.
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