Wednesday, August 31, 2011

August 31, 2011

August 31st is always a kind of strange day for me.  Had she lived, it would be my sister's 51st birthday.  As it was, she was gone before she turned 19.  A suicide, successful after many failed efforts.  Suicide leaves behind a trail of broken hearts, all the more ironic because the person who suicides invariably thinks those who love her will somehow be better off.  Or an equally delusional path, thinking "yes, i understand it will hurt, but only for a little while".

What would I say to her if she suddenly reappeared?  I would tell her it never stopped hurting; that I never stopped wondering how it would be to have a sister; I would ask her if there might have been anything someone could have done to prevent her from going into the garage and starting the car;   I would ask her if she'd wanted to back out of her plan only too find it too late. I would ask her how the afterlife was for someone who suicided.

And I'd wish her a happy birthday.

No comments:

Post a Comment