Missing you…

One Year On..

This is going to be an extremely personal post. I make no apologies for this. Sometimes, there are days when you need to just write what’s on your heart.

One year ago today, my life was ripped apart, when I found my sister and best friend, in her bed, having passed away. That day will be forever imprinted on my mind as one of the worst days of my life. I felt like my heart was literally breaking.

I did all the things I was supposed to do; calling the ambulance, and filling in all the paperwork; the notifications to friends and family; calling the funeral directors. That day, it felt like everyone wanted a piece of me, and all I wanted was to curl in on myself and hide away and never come out. I watched as the police were called and the house was declared a crime scene. We were asked to leave while they decided that there weren’t actually any suspicious circumstances.

I kept thinking that this had to be some kind of crazy nightmare and all I needed was to wake up, but this nightmare wouldn’t end. Seeing the coroner’s report; planning the funeral; organising the financial affairs, and executing the will.

She had a plain wood coffin with no lacquer and we decorated it with photos, and messages from her friends and family. My Mum painted wild flowers all around it, and I used pyrography to put the details into it.

The day of the funeral passed in a bit of a blur. I stood up and gave my tribute. I don’t know how I got through it. I honestly don’t. I certainly don’t know how I got through it without my usual coping mechanism.

After the funeral, life sort of just goes on. People go back to their own lives, and I was left with all of the grief and all of the pain, and no idea of what to do with it. I finished up the business affairs, and got through Christmas and New Year, only to be confronted by the news that an inquest had been called. I had to give a statement to the police. Four hours later, and emotionally exhausted, I was done. Then all I could do was wait for the date of the inquest.

When that day came, I was terrified. I think I spent most of the day in a daze. I was called to give evidence under oath, before the coroner finally gave a verdict of accidental death.

I was finally able to collect her official death certificates two days before my birthday.

I miss her every day. I remember things; stupid things, and I wonder if there was something that I could have done differently; if there was something I could have done to save her.

The pain of missing her is so intense and acute, and sometimes I wonder if it will ever stop, or whether it might eventually kill me, but then I realise that I have to carry on. I have to live for us both now. I have to do all the things we were going to do.

I so wish that I could have saved her. The only thing I can hope is that she is now at peace. She never truly was during her life, but I have to believe that she is now happy, even if that means not having her here with me.

So, Kiri, one year on, I just want to say that I love you. I miss you. There won’t be a day that goes by when I don’t think of you, and that I really hope that you’re pain free and at peace now.

No more pain. No more hurting. No more trauma.

Just joy. Lots of laughter. And plenty of love.