Last night between 2:30 and 3:30am, I wrote a letter to Sarah as it’s been four weeks. I know a lot of what I’ve written lately has been about what’s happened, and for some folks who may be reading this, it’s like picking at a scab. For me, it’s therapy, and helps me deal with my emotions and how I feel about this – so I apologize if I’m ripping your scabs open on a fairly frequent basis. (How gross is that, picking at scabs… hah!)
I’m not overly demonstrative. When I love though, I love fully and deeply… still waters run deep and all that. I’m pretty true to my Scorpio heritage in that aspect. And the emotional trauma that my whole family has been dealing with in the past month… well, this is my way of dealing with it. I hope you understand. Much love to everyone. ❤
Dear Sarah,
It’s been 28 days since you were taken from us. 28 mornings, noons and nights where we’ve all struggled to understand just why something like this happened. I know it’s been exactly one lunar month… 28 days exactly… four weeks because of the shifts I work. 28 day cycles.
A lot has happened in the time that you’ve been gone. We celebrated Christmas, the best we could. Every one of us expected you to come through the door at any moment, even though we knew in our minds that you wouldn’t. We plastered smiles on our faces, and ensured that the kids had a great day. And they did, they told us.
We got a new tattoo in honour of you! It was the Ohana one you were talking about getting on your foot. Four of us got it… Mum and all three of us sisters. Your mum was BRILLIANT, she sat there and got the tattoo like a pro! They’re pretty much almost healed now. Leigh was so nervous about hers that she was sweating bullets, hah. Ann got one as well, all over the top of her foot like the badass she is. You would love it.
We celebrated New Years as well. Some of us went to a party, some of us had our own little celebration at home. A lot of us stayed up to see 2016 end. It was therapeutic in a way, with as terrible as the year had been. After midnight, Mum told us that your son said he missed you SOOOOOO much. And we all admitted that we missed you too.
Two birthdays were celebrated! Your brother and your daughter. Not much happened for your brother, but we all took the time out to go out to lunch… it was really nice, being with everyone. Emma reinstated birthday giving, so we all gave him something. It was only 50$ but it felt good to give. I didn’t have the heart to tell them all that we still went out of our way to give you something for your birthday every year and vice versa. I’ll miss giving you the yearly beauty voucher this year for a facial, I know you loved receiving them.
Your girls put together a birthday party for your baby. Five is a big age for any little girl, and your daughter celebrated in style with a big princess piñata, face painting and a cake that was amazing. We smiled until we couldn’t smile any more but the smiles never quite reached our eyes. I had to walk away at one point because I was feeling angry. You should’ve been there. They cheated to ensure that your son won pass the parcel as well, and none of us feel bad about that at all.
We said goodbye to you, officially, although you’re never gone in our hearts and minds. I looked at you laying in that white coffin, and it wasn’t you. It was only the shell of what you were. It didn’t have your sparkle, your glow, your joie de vivre. That’s not really the fault of the funeral home, goodness knows they did their best. The slow burning embers of anger I hold inside flared that night… but they’re back to simmering at the moment.
We wrote on the lid of your coffin, messages of love. Aidan had a hard time figuring out what to write, as did Grace. They wrote their messages in purple, which you would’ve loved. You also would’ve been amused that Matt wrote in red and I wrote in blue and the kids in purple. Matt quoted a song by a band named Lamb of God called Only Embers Remain. The day after we were told about what happened, he sat in the work car and cried listening to it. He’s been struggling since you were taken from us. He’s so angry, and so sad. I need to find someone to hold his kick pad so he can work out some of this anger and aggression. Your siblings spoke at the funeral. And Matt blew them all away, I was proud of him. You would’ve been too. And you would’ve been touched to see just how affected we all have been.
I’m never going to listen to some songs the same way ever again, if I ever do listen to them.
Your funeral service was beautiful. I believe that you know it was, because the ones we love never truly leave us and that your spirit was there. It was there in the espresso martinis that were ordered and drank, in the glasses of wine consumed, the hugs and love that filled the air. And we felt you late that night, a ghostly caress through the room that raised goosebumps. Thank you for letting us know you were there.
Us ladies of the family went out and lost money at the casino, except for mum. She won a little bit, which was awesome! We drank, ate, and spent time strengthening our bonds. You were missed, sorely, but we shared our grief, and we found moments of happiness. Alcohol helped… my poor liver isn’t going to make it out of this month intact, I suspect.
And, on the Sunday just passed we had a KONGA™ class that was amazing. It kicked my ass, I’m so sore, haha. I can see why you loved it, I think I recognized one of the latin flavoured tracks.. as I’m moving to it I’m going “Is that Daddy Yankee? Or Wisin y Yandel?” I know you knew about my near obsession with Mexican food, but I absolutely LOVE Latin music. I wish I could’ve shared that with you, I have some amazing songs that you would’ve loved to dance to. I wish I could’ve attended a KONGA™ class with you, I think it would’ve been an amazing experience.
And now here we are to today, 28 days later. It no longer feels like this is someone else’s life or that it’s something on TV. It’s now our new normal, our new reality and frankly, honey, it sucks ass. We’d all give anything to have you back, truly. The raw pain of losing you is starting to dull and now we’re all having to do the things that no one ever thinks that they need to do. How does one go through accounts and bills and your house when it’s really the last thing any of us want to do? Archiving emails and Instagram and Snapchat and Facebook… no one ever thinks about these things and now we’re having to. We’ve already started but it’s like when you cut yourself and it’s just starting to heal. The scab is forming over, but then you may move a certain way and it breaks open again. That’s what it feels like right now, a thousand little scabs and whichever way we move, they bust open again and we feel the pain as if it were fresh pain from 28 days ago.
It will never go away, this pain of missing you and wishing you were here again somehow. Eventually those scabs will become scars that we will all bear. But, we will bear them with love, because we all love you. Not loved, no. Never past tense. Because we will never stop loving you.
It’s been 28 days of hell since you were taken from us Sarah. And, I’m pretty sure I’m not out of line when I say that we’ve missed you every moment of those days… and will continue to miss you, always.
Love always, your sister
Stacy