You had this thing about not treating us like we were delicate little girls who couldn't do anything. So you talked to us like we were grownups. Not really about grownup things - though I loved licking the envelopes and stamps when you let me help pay bills - but in a grownup way. You didn't talk down to us.
And you taught me how to move furniture - that you take out the drawers if they make the dresser too heavy - and how to watch for the glare of sunlight when you're rearranging furniture in a room.
And I miss you and miss you and miss you. You should come back. Everybody misses you. And you'd be so upset with how things are now. Remember when Alex was a baby and you brought us to Aunt Elaine's for the first time and Alex was sitting on the floor in the kitchen and Aunt Elaine wanted her to move so she pushed her with her foot and Alex slid along the floor? I laughed because it seemed so funny and Alex had such a surprised look on her face but you were so angry and we left. She still does that - just grabs our arm and pulls us out of her way if we're in it. You were so mad at me on the way home, for thinking it was funny that somebody was mean. I'm sorry. I get it now.
How come there are no miracles any more these days? When's the last time god did something magical? You would be an awesome miracle - totally worthwhile.
Last night I got a really deep papercut on my finger. I was squeezing the blood into the sink under cold water and wanted you to kiss it better.
I wish you'd known you were going to die. Then you could have written me out instructions for now, for college, for everything. You would have told me to take an SAT prep course. How was I supposed to know everybody who's going to college takes them? They cost a trillion dollars. You would have made me soup when I got sick. And you never ever would have said you were tired of hearing me cough. You'd have gotten me a bag of lollipops.
Come back. I hate how people decide what dead people would want based on what they want. "She'd want you to wear her jewelry - she'd want you to go enjoy yourself." You would have wanted me to apologize to all the people whose clothes you didn't finish before you died. I didn't. Grandma was going to do them all for you and then she died too and then it was too much to do. All those people who might not have known why they never got their clothes back. I don't know if they knew for sure. And you were always so careful about never losing anyone's clothes and always having them ready on time. I'm sorry I didn't tell people. I didn't think to put up a notice or anything. I'm sorry.
I bet if you came back they'd forgive you. Or you could get new people. You should try. Just come back. I miss you.
2 comments:
this post is so unbelievably sad.
for me it's been eleven and a half years and i was pretty grown up at 28 when she died, but i still have those "i miss you" days.
whenever i do sonething she taught me, i think of her. whenever i'm sick with a fever, i remember how she used to come in and fluff up my pillow and turn it to the cool side. whenever i find books or knickknacks i know she would have loved, i want to buy them and give them to her, just to see her smile.
i wonder if i will carry this sense of loss with me all my life.
for you it must be so much harder. she should be there with you. and you deserve to at least live with someone who doesn't make you feel unwelcome. i'm sad for you.
I know this post isn't about SAT prep courses, but that's what I'm commenting on. If you can, just buy yourself a book of sample questions and do as many of them as you can. There's no need for an expensive class; I never took one.
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