Tuesday, March 07, 2006

dear sis,

Tuesday, March 07, 2006
author's note: i posted this on livejournal a few days ago. some, but not all, of you have seen this piece so i am reposting it here.

i thought of you today when i read these words: "living is the horror, not death. the living mourn the dead. the dead mourn no one." and so it is, kay. i, the living, mourn you, the dead. kay, i cannot put into words how i miss you. and how bitterness, tempered with regret, fills my soul when i think of all the tender moments, secrets, and sorrows that remained unshared between us sisters.

i'm sorry that you never got to experience motherhood. its amazing, kay. amazing. these tiny lives - so dependent. vulnerable, and so ...us. and we mold them. shape them. they become our life project.they become life ... and its meaning. its scary, kay. and so much responsibility. and difficult. but ... ahh. the joy of hearing yourself in a tiny voice, or seeing your gestures in a tiny body. and the intensity of it ... knowing you would die for them, or .... worse - kill for them. i think you would have made a wonderful mum, kay. better than me, i think. better - because you were always the strong, disciplined one. but --these are just thoughts now, dear sis. i miss you. and ... i'm forever sorry. and, it changes nothing.

i'm sorry that mother never understood, kay. that she discarded you like a torn sock. when you refused to deny yourself in order to declare your 'loyalty' ... some fucking stupid and nebulus concept they made up for their own self-importance. and that i, weak and cowardly, fell for her ultimatum and turned on you. this, i think, shall remain my undying regret --lifelong. the only thing i shall take to my grave, kay. and ... kay, i do so wish you had a grave. somplace i could visit you. but ... all i have are those secret shadowy places inside my heart ... filled with childhood memories ... you and me, kay. and ... i have my sad, searing regret.

i try not to think of the fact that someone from florida had to call us to tell us that you died in a car accident at home, in northern alberta. when i do think of this fact, i reflect on how complacent, cowardly and distant i had grown in relation to you. and of the last time i saw you alive. on the no. 60 bus. i can never really know for sure - but in my heart i believe that you saw me snubbing you. me - that fucking snotty little sister of yours.

i felt so sheepish, at your funeral. and judged. judged by all those who thought they loved you more, and therefore deserved to mourn you more intensely. i felt so much i felt nothing, kay. numb ... flaming numbness. my boss - a bitch from hell - gave me the gears about taking five days off to travel to your funeral, kay. fucking cunt! but i travelled all the same. i don't remember the bus ride to edmonton ...

i'm guessing that has something to do with the 3x500 cc bottles of rye and coke (a 50-50 mix) i drank en route. i have a very, very vague recollection of getting off the bus ... and, i'm actually amazed that i could walk at all. but, kay ... nothing could drown me. i tried, drinking as much alcohol as i could find. nothing. just a little of the edge taken off. i wonder what your in-laws thought - seeing me at breakfast time in the restaurant, already drinking alcohol.

i'm not really sure how ... but thru some form of osmosis the reality of your absence from this earth seeped into my soul. leaving its mark ... indelible. this wound of mine - it closed over, kay. but it never really healed inside. i miss you. i'm sorry. but i know that no depth of feeling can change the unchangeable. and so it is. the living mourn the dead. i mourn you.


Lady Prism said...

i feel.....


mad malva blue said...

thank you ...

it means a lot