|
The Darkest Hour |
It’s been less than 3 weeks since
Margaret, my amazing, wonderful, funny, sweet, generous, younger sister, died.
She died suddenly on the cusp of Sunday into Monday. I talked to her only an
hour before she died and neither she nor I thought she was very sick. We
thought her labored breathing was just an allergic reaction to her new
medicine. We didn’t know it
was a blood clot working its way from her lungs to her heart. Her last words to
me were “I’ll call you in an hour when I get out – they
won’t let me use the cell phone in the hospital.”
I will never forget the phone call. I will never
forget the shock of hearing the words from a nurse, “I’m sorry, your
sister just died.”
No,
this is not possible, I was just talking to her. We’re going on a big
trip and, her bag is already packed. She’s going to be an aunt and
she’s so excited. No!!.
She’s only 38. No! I cannot
get through the rest of my life without her. No, you must be wrong. You must be
wrong. You must be wrong………………Please be
wrong. Please God, no.
Over the next few days, I called her cell phone so
many times, leaving long messages telling her I knew there had been a clerical
error; that I knew she was in the hospital and they had the wrong name on the
person who died. Margaret, please call me back because you
wouldn’t believe how sad everyone is,, but I know it’s a mistake so
just call me and we’ll get it straightened out.
These words came from friend of mine who is an
Episcopalian priest:
“It is beyond all imagining how Margaret could
not be with you. I can hardly begin to comprehend your grief and sense of loss.
I believe that pain and loss at the level you are experiencing can’t be
talked at or consoled away. How could it be? It is as deep and sacred as
prayer, and it belongs to you and God alone.”
He is exactly right. I cannot begin to describe my
grief. It is so deep. It is so
lonely. It is almost beyond the pain
of reality, existing somewhere in the grey world of nightmares and shadows.
The same friend described Margaret so
accurately:
“I thought the world of your sister. She was utterly without guile and one
of the purest souls in the true Gospel sense that I have ever met.”
Margaret could find the fun and humor in
everything. She had an ever-present
sense of humor. We teased each other all the time. She remained sweet and generous her whole
life. To outsiders she appeared a
bit cynical about love, but inwardly she remained a true romantic. She hated confrontation and she
was the appeaser of our family. She
loved her cats, her friends, and the idea of being an aunt just sent her over
the moon with happiness. In A
Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, he describes God as the “great
vivisector” or “Cosmic Sadist.” How else could He take my beautiful
sister from this world when she was only 38, so happy in her life, and before
she even got to meet little Annabelle, whom she loved so much just from photos
and a video? How could He?
I love you Sissy and will miss you every day of my
life --- Weenie
|
|
