Funny

It's funny how one minute you could just be studying for a final, forgetting the fact that your sister died two years ago tomorrow, then the next you put the book away and start watching "Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants." Which conveniently includes a 12-year-old girl who has lukemia and ends up dying in the movie. The scene where Tibby and Bailey are sitting together in the hospital bed just gets me. I knew it was coming but the tears were there anyway.

I used to do that with Christiana. I have pictures of it. I used to tease her about how comfortable her bed was (it really was!!) and would climb into bed with her.

It's funny how two years ago today seems like a dream, how when I tell Christiana's story now it doesn't feel like it really happened. It just feels like, well, a story. It's hard to think of what actually happened two years ago today. I don't think I really let myself go there.

Because it hurt.

I have all these things that I put up screaming that I'm dealing with it, but I'm really not. Pictures of her decorate my wall, but no one knows that she's no longer alive. I have the bracelets, but hardly anyone knows what they mean. Fashion statement, people think. I have the necklace -- which I just started wearing again last week -- that I still only wear with shirts that don't show it. Anytime I wear the necklace, I'm not wearing a shirt that shows my collarbone, so that the picture and the memory can sit safely out of sight.

Few people know the significance of having to take this final today. I could just blow through the day like I have the last two days and not think about it. But I don't want that. Somehow, I want to come out of today having felt the pain. I also want to do well on the final. Can they both happen?

I have no idea what my next step of grief is. I wish I knew. I wish it were easy. I wish surrendering something to God was a physical thing, like physically giving him a piece of me. Then I would actually know when I didn't have it anymore. This whole daily surrender thing is leaving me confused. When have I actually done it? How do I know when I'm healed? How do I know when I can feel? How do I know that the tears aren't forced?

I felt like I should cry during that scene. But I could very well have gone through that scene and refused to feel. I wanted to feel.

Since the grieving plan I had for this week didn't quite turn out, I assume that I'll start feeling when I go home. It'll be easier there, I tell people. Who knows? I feel like it's a matter of my heart, like I'm closed off somehow but I don't know how to open up again.

I'm trying. What are You waiting for?


(12/14/07 1:17am)