CoCo Chanel
I tried. I really did, but the nap won. #losing I was congratulating myself earlier, because I was getting through the day without any sense of melancholy. You see, today is the 9th anniversary of my sister's death. On this day, 9 years ago, my sister gave up on this world. Even this many years out, the pain of it stings like a [insert explicit word here]. But, today, I was doing good. Until that dagum nap! During my nap I had a dream. It went a little something like this:
My sister and I were headed out to the car. I had climbed into the passenger side, but she hadn't gotten in quite yet. As she was walking around to her side of the car, I heard her yelp. I looked up and there was a bear and a tiger circling the car. At first, I was frozen in fear. Then my brain went into overdrive thinking, "What can I do to help her?"
I could see that she was thinking too. She seemed as if she was going to run, but realized it would be in vain. I thought, "what if I rolled down the window and made a ruckus to get their attention off of her and on to me, so she could escape." I tried but the window didn't budge.
By some miracle of fate she made it over to the driver's side door. She tried it and found that it was locked. I got caught up in the seatbelt as I attempted to reach over and unlock it. By the time I had freed myself, the bear was right up on her. She was unharmed when I went to press the unlock button. I pressed the button and nothing happened.
I was eventually able to manually unlock the door, but the bear had gotten hold of her. I pushed open the door and grabbed her. She was caught in the vice of the bear. I was yanking her frantically to get her into the car. She was yelling. At one point, the bear loosened its grip enough that I was able to pull her into the car and she somehow managed to close the door. "Are you okay?!" I screamed. She was breathing heavily, but didn't say anything. Then I noticed she was bleeding profusely from her left side. It wasn't long after that that she lost conscious and slumped down into her seat.
I awoke with a start from my dream feeling extremely heavy. Dagum nap. It's hard because I know that no matter how long I live I will always carry some measure of guilt about my sister's death. Noone has to tell me the staples, "It's not your fault." "You shouldn't feel guilty" etc., etc. I know it all, and 90% of me believes it. Yet, I know that 10% will always remain to torture me.
I think about the last conversation I had with her. I heard the emptiness in her voice, and I remember weeping on my dorm room floor for her happiness. For her heart. I felt so helpless. Like my dream, I knew she was in trouble, but I couldn't seem to help her in time. The mind is a funny thing. It never forgets. It has the a perspicacity that surpasses our consciousness. And it reminds us of those things we try to bury deep down.
There is so much more than the obvious to unpack from that dream, but for for now I'll deal with the surface, and delve deeper when it's not so raw.
Part of me is grateful, for the 10%. I never want to forget. I never want to forget that there are people in this world that are hurting. I never want to forget that I can make a difference, even if its small. I never want to forget the promise I made to live this life abundantly to prove to her (and myself) that, though life can beat you down sometimes, we all have the tenacity to get back up again. I never want to forget...her.
I welcome this pain, but I still curse that dagum nap.
