Sam’s World

Yesterday was the six month marker of Kelly’s death. This post is going to be completely honest, and I don’t know that I always am honest about how I’ve been since March 17th.

Kelly was so much to me. She was not only my older sister, she was a second mother. And while that was annoying sometimes, I guess I kind of was blind to it sometimes. I didn’t want a second mother, I didn’t want her to watch out for me all the time. It was hard to live in a small room with four other people. There was a lot of tension. Even when Kelly was in the hospital, it only increased everything. Yes, there were only three of us in the room then, but it was hard because it meant that something was wrong. Watching not only your sister, but a lot of other kids, get sick is something that stays with you. While it was happening, I was always trying to run from it. I always listened to music, or wanted to be doing something, just so I didn’t have to sit and stare cancer in the face. Before we left Seattle, I think I knew what was happening. Kelly started falling asleep all the time, even when she was in the middle of doing something. It scared me, and yet I kept trying to not believe that she was dying. I didn’t want to think about life without her. Because it seemed impossible. The days that we were home are a bit of a blur. I just remember that then Kelly was in the hospital, and then it just went fast. And it seemed every time you saw her, it just got worse and worse. I faintly remember then going to Great Falls to get Marcy and the boys, and then after that spending most of my time with Gavin. Because I didn’t want to see my sister. And that’s something I regret. I wish I would have spent more time with her that last week. I wish I finally would have stopped running from it. When we went to the hospital right after she died, I still wouldn’t look at her. I caught a glimpse, and that was enough. I still see that image of her, and that’s what’s hard. While pictures of her smiling and laughing hang on my walls, in my head, I still see her very sick in that hospital. I know it’s important for me to be at school now, and to just push through this, but I don’t know how. Because now I’m not running from the fact that she was sick, and that she’s not here with us. And I don’t know how to deal with those facts. And while my family goes through the same grief, it feels different. We’re all at different places in our lives, and we all knew Kelly in different ways. Opening my eyes in the morning takes an unbelievable amount of energy. Then going and seeing people who don’t really know what’s going on, takes that much more energy. And then I go home, finally, and then it’s there, because Kelly is still a part of my life. And when I get through the night and lay down in my bed, it breaks me. I see here everywhere, and even when I’m exhausted I don’t want to sleep because I’m scared of what I’ll see when I close my eyes and my mind starts to wander. And when people tell me I’m strong, I don’t feel that way. Because I feel completely lost, and confused, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t run from it, and pretend like nothing happened, but it’s so painful to accept it. And while people tell me this horrible feeling will pass someday, it’s hard to believe. Because it’s hard to imagine that I’ll make it through another night or a day or a week.

Six months seemed to go by fast. And while that could be comforting, it’s not. It could be a blessing that time goes by fast. But right now, I don’t see it that way. It just scares me. And I find myself wondering what’s going to happen to the rest of us. How much longer do I have? My family? My friends? The mind of this thirteen year-old is too full, and I don’t know what to do with myself or my thoughts.