It’s almost 8 years ago, and sitting here completely dissolved, I can’t comprehend it. It was quick and it was painless in the start. Even as a 9 year old, I knew what death meant, but I hadn’t thought about everything else that came with it. I hadn’t thought about how much I’d miss you, I’d miss all the time I spent with you, I took all of it for granted. The years after you had left was rough. Even with the little knowledge of death, that I had. The first few days, I had forgotten that you were gone. I haven’t told anyone that. I would wake up and think of you, and then I would walk out into the kitchen and realise. But the first day, where mom told us, is the clearest and I almost can’t help tearing up when telling it, even if it’s close friends who ask about it.
I was 9, it was fall and I woke up wondering why mom hadn’t woken me up for school yet. Confused as I was, I walked out into the kitchen and the neighbour, Winnie, was there cooking pancakes, Mille and Benjamin watcing TV in the living room. I asked her where mom was, she said I should sit down and watch TV, and that she would be home soon enough. The next thing I remember is mom sitting down to talk with Ida by her side. Her eyes are puffy. Mille and Benjamin are playing on the couch, I’m quiet - I could feel the tension in the air. I can’t remember the words that left her mouth, but the next thing I remember is Winnie, Ida, mom and I breaking completely down into tears. I can’t recall anything as painful as that day, and all the days where I can’t stop missing you. But life is unfair, and we didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I still can’t talk about that, explaining those few lines, without my eyes watering up, wether I want it or not. As it is now, I don’t see how I should be able to explain it without crying a bit.
I hid it away for years. Until last year. Grief can’t be forced upon you, when it’s time, you’ll grief. You’ll know when you do, cause it’ll leave you feeling empty and yet, you’re full of anger and sadness and full of so many unanswered questions. The day it was 7 years ago you left, was the day I started to wonder and think. This school year has given me the opportunity to evolve, both socially and mentally. There has been a lot of questions I’ve thought of, but they’ve all been forgotten, but one remains; I wonder, if you would have been proud of me in any way, cause that really means a lot to me.
Mom says you would’ve been, and so does my best friends. It would’ve meant the world to me, to hear it from you, but instead I’ve heard it from mom. She has, in the heat of the moment, said that she wasn’t proud of me, but dissapointed. I find myself remebering her saying dissapointed, rather than proud. Not that it matters all that much, but I just don’t know who I’m doing this for then? On days like then, maybe even weeks, I can’t find the strenght nor the motivation to keep going. Sometimes I don’t want to at all.
I miss you, a lot more than I let on, even if I can’t remember every single thing we did. I only remember bits and pieces, but what I do remember, I hold onto as tight as I can. Those are the memories I value the most, cause I can’t make any new.
Love Caro ♥️