I was definitely optimistic about returning to work this week. I kept it together for the most part. As soon as I could leave, I did, and I’m not going back until Tuesday now.
Last night when I left work, I took all those old slides with pictures from our childhood to get scanned. I officially got to be ‘the woman with the tragic back story’ because I was there to get slides scanned in to use for my brother’s funeral. Why did I need slides scanned? Because those are the only family photos we have left after our parents’ house burned down. Thank god those slides weren’t at The Farm when the bushfire happened, I guess. At least we have some family photos.
After that, I went to Mum and Dad’s. I came around on her way to the hospital to visit her niece and we had a short talk, but agreed to catch up again today. Then Dad, Mum, and I went to dinner together. It is so fucking weird that I’m their only child now. I do consider I to be my sister, but we all know it’s not the same as the person you grew up with.
Today, I picked up I and T, then we went to Mum and Dad’s to talk. It’s all just shitty conversations about funeral plans and stuff. Things we shouldn’t be discussing, and I hate it.
I cried so hard on the drive to pick them up. It’s like…at home with D and the kids, I was distracted. With Mum and Dad last night, I was distracted. Those moments when I’m alone, particularly when I’m driving, I lose my fucking shit. I scream frequently when I’m driving. I cry so hard and the pain is intense. D and I have switched cars because his is safer and driving scares me now.
I hate that you lived 9 minutes from my house and I literally never visited you there. I hate that at some unspecified time in the future, I will see you there, but it won’t be you, it’ll just be your body. I hate that tomorrow we’re going to talk a funeral director about your funeral.
On a positive note, once I and T were with me, I didn’t cry anymore. We went to Mum and Dad’s, had those shitty discussions, then I ran a bunch of errands with her. Dumb thing? We realised this was literally the first time she and I have been out alone together. We just always caught up when you were there. I think the only other time would’ve been my baby shower when I was pregnant with E.
Anyway, it was good to spend time together, even if it was just running errands. I wore T in the baby carrier and it made my day. He was so snuggly and cute and I love him to pieces. It will still hit me sometimes that you’re really gone and it’s so fucking weird because you were just here last week.
I keep thinking about the last time I saw you. Running through our final conversation in my head. “Can you go? I have to take L home and you’re in front of me.” Great final last words from your sister. I know you wouldn’t have been offended, just…GAH. A thousand million other things would’ve been better final last words. I’m devastated that you died on the scene, that you didn’t get airlifted to Perth so we could at least see you one last time before you died.
You’re gone and I can’t get you back and I hate it. All I can do is write these letters into the ether. How do I do this? How do I keep going?
Oh, on Saturday in the ‘before time’, we were at the shops after swimming. I heard a song playing over the speakers and I liked the sound of it. I’m writing The Stalker and I’m always looking for songs to add to my playlist for it. So, I stopped and tried to listen for some lyrics to Google.
I ended up Googling the phrase ‘do on my heart’ which was close enough to find “Chew On My Heart” by James Bay. I added it to the playlist but now I think my brain associates it with that day. Whenever it comes on, my heart hurts and I cry. I miss you. Everything is wrong. The pain is always there, it’s like at any given moment I could allow myself to let it in and just completely and utterly lose my shit.
I don’t know how tomorrow is going to go. I’m dreading it. I miss you so much and it’s so unfair that you’re gone.