Natalie

This is my sister.  I post her picture because one year ago today was quite literally the worst day of my life, full of despair, anger, confusion, and sadness.  It was, unfortunately, a day I had predicted would come many years ago. 

One year ago today, it was discovered she had died in her locked bedroom several days before.  She did not commit suicide but she did probably die of a massive heart attack.  My father had to have the sheriff come and knock down the door.  She was very protective of her privacy - and with good reason.  I will not go into details about the condition of the house and especially her bedroom but it was bad.  Very bad.  I cannot take back seeing it.

Normally, when I blog I withhold details about events so know what I am saying is still very raw and it still hurts very much.  I loved Natalie so much.  Our childhood together was fun and lighthearted, but our differences became very obvious as we headed into our teenage years.  I worried about her health.  I worried about her not getting more education.  And that was only the surface.  I worried about her salvation.  She never wanted to talk about faith at all - so I am in the dark here.

So, here I am, a year later and still seeking answers.  Like Dr. Sheldon Cooper, I am a problem solver; it's what I do, but I can't solve for "x" or even quantify this situation.  Unlike the problems I love solving, I can't answer the question because I'm not really sure what I need to be asking.  It's exhausting and frustrating.

But - I am a Christian and I do not live as one without hope. I know I am one loved woman by our heavenly Father.  He is hearing my woes and letting me cry on his shoulder while He holds me in silence.  I am waiting for His voice, His words of comfort, the release that only He can give.  I know I am the one holding all of this up - that in truth He is waiting on me.  But I have great comfort in knowing I am not alone.

Lightening Up

Sometimes bloggers use their writing forums (our blogs) to think in writing.  It helps to clear our minds and we just choose to let the world in to share those thoughts.  Some bloggers write DIY tips (and thank you SO much - I am rehabbing furniture with my daughter right now) and some write their heartaches.  I'm in the heartache category - but I do sometimes write about celebrations.

DD and I are working on my making some old furniture new for her to use in her apartment once she is married in August.  We are learning the importance of stretching dollars and appreciating some of the free treasures found in life.  A bucket of paint can be a lot of fun. We also learned not to apply primer in front of a fan because it gets stringy and in your mother's hair.

My mother loved a good (or any) garage sale, so there were a lot of treasures and some junk in my house growing up.  Unfortunately, my parents were not very good at managing money - something I am very glad to not inherit - and garage sales were necessary.  I have only had one garage sale in my adult life and I pledged NEVER to do it again, but if someone else finds value in my left overs, perhaps I should.

I have learned some important lessons about "things":

• Don't accumulate them for the sake of having them.
• If you decide to replace something, get rid of the old thing.
• Things are way less important than people, and if that old thing you refuse to give up is getting in the way of a relationship, get rid of that old thing.
• There is a lot of value in repurposing some things but you can't repurpose people.  Don't try to make people what they aren't supposed to be.

So, today I am going to continue to try to make something beautiful out of someone's old junk.  It is a process, much like trying to find God's purpose in our lives. (Let me tell you:  it's not a secret.  Accept Jesus Christ and love God and each other.)  Sometimes it is messy, but it is always worth it. 

June 9, 2014

What I am writing is very personal and my way of processing this anniversary of Natalie's death. If this is going to bother you, please move on and don't comment.

The date on her death certificate and on the headstone says June 12, 2014.  That is the legal day my sister died.  However,  it is not the actual day.

Since no one was with her, we don't know for sure.  See, my dad was in the house.  Probably in the living room.  It was customary for her to be isolated in her locked bedroom.  Not unusual at all.
But it was the 12th when he called me, saying he hadn't seen her for a while - at least two days - and her car was in the carport.  So, she was found on the 12th and so that's what was put on the death certificate.

You may wonder how I know?  The police and coroner were called and acknowledged her death occurred several days before.  Other evidence made it undeniable.  I listened to two days worth of voice mail messages from my father begging her to open her door.  Looking for clues, I logged into her facebook account and read messages, comments, likes, activity logs - anything that may help me narrow down the why and the when.  Some of what I read hurt me to the core.

One thing I know for sure: it was an accident.  The other things I know for sure: it was not before 3:22 pm on the 9th.  It was after that when her activity on facebook stopped.  In my head and heart, I know it was when her heart stopped.  So I have the when. And I probably have the how if my theory of sudden heart failure is correct.  We didn't ask for an autopsy but it makes the most sense.

If you knew my sister, then you can suspect the why.  The why part of the question is so complex and multifaceted we may never get it answered.  It is kind of disturbing how much I ponder these things.  Maybe it isn't.  Maybe it's natural for me.  The why doesn't really deal with her death.  More with her life and how she lived it.

So here I am - almost a year later and no more answers than I had before.  The questions swirl in my head and my heart like an unending hurricane.  Sometimes I am in the eye and it is calm.  Sometimes I feel like the worst part is about to pass over me and sometimes I just want to see that rainbow.  I know there will be more storms in my life and peace usually follows.  But this storm is different and it keeps raging around me and somehow it is confining my unexpressed rage.  Maybe that surprises you - that I have rage.  Today has been the first day I've expressed my feelings as rage, but I guess that's what it is.

I am praying for the peace and I know it isn't within me.  I know it isn't within my own strength and power to summon up.  I know only God can give me that peace which passes all understanding and I know, without a doubt, it is there waiting on me.  So what am I waiting on?

Writing the events

It has been almost 6 months since my sister's death, and the discovery of her real life and things I can't really verbalize.

A few weeks ago I started writing them.  It is chronological, describing what I was doing, what smells there were, and yes, the feelings.  The accounting is detailed and graphic.  But it is something I need to do for my own sanity.  I have to let it out and share it somewhere, so it is in a Word document.  I don't know if I will ever let anyone read it.  But it contains the facts of the situation.

When I read it back to myself, I cringe to myself because of the rawness of it all, and double check to make sure I haven't left anything out.  The read is rather clinical.

I think this is the way I am processing this grief.  It will be fine, but I don't think it will ever be over.

What really died on June 12

My sister died on June 12, but that's a who, not a what.

What died?
The hope I could have a healthy relationship with her.  It was the same as with my mother.  I mourned, and still do, mourn what could have been.

The trust I had in who I thought she was died.  There were so many things I thought she was doing, but now I know it was never true.  Well some parts, maybe.  I'm not a naive person and I'm not really trusting, either, but I couldn't believe some of the things I discovered.  Things that will be between me and her until I join her.

Hurt also died.  Not the hurt of my grief - that is still an oozing, crusting over scab.  Some of the emotional hurt.  She would lash out if she got backed into a corner.  This started as a child.  We had some doozies of  fights.  When I could drive, off I would go.

What didn't die was the peace I have.  I am really okay she is gone.  I don't like it.  I don't like she didn't make it to 45 years old.  I don't like she didn't take care of herself.  I don't like she didn't take care of the house.  I don't like she didn't take care of our father.  Some people will argue that point, but it is unfortunately true.  She took care of some stuff.

But I have peace and faith.  And that will never die.

The Fall was my favorite Season

The Fall was my favorite season growing up.

It has Thanksgiving.  I love Thanksgiving - or I did.  It has beautiful colors and cooler weather.  It has the anticipation of Christmas and my Savior's birth.

It is bittersweet.

It also had my mother's birthday.  And her death day.  It had my sister's birthday.  And memories of childhood Thanksgivings with my cousins and grandmother's.  Right now, I am in a season of memories, of melancholy.

Tomorrow my mother will have been in heaven 10 years.  I know she has been happier there than she ever was here.  She is with her family - she is with Jesus - she has music and life and love and light.

As I face the next weeks thinking of the upcoming birthdays, pray for my sorrow and grief.  Pray that I can balance my time with the family I have with me, my work, and my first birthday in 45 years without my sister.

Mama and Natalie have been on my mind a lot the last week, and today has been difficult.  Difficulty with a student in the last week and again today didn't help.  Telling me to smile and get over it doesn't help.  Telling me the Lord is with me doesn't help.  I know He is there.

So, what do I need?  I'm not sure, but please do not make me cry publicly.  I hate that more than anything and if you love me, you know that.

I feel sad and blah and discouraged.  So there's the honesty.  The truth I hide behind responsibility and an exterior emotional toughness.  The truth I would change if I could.

Questions?

When my dad can't get into his bank account online, why does he assume it's the bank's fault?  (3 times since June)

Why did my sister buy all the discounted movies in Walmart?  VHS, DVD... if you want some chances are they are in the back of my car.

When a student doesn't understand something I've taught (usually new to them), why do they assume I am a bad teacher?  It's already happened this week.

Why don't I like to clean the house, yet I like the result?  (okay that's a dumb question but it should be motivation, right?)

Why do smart kids refuse to ask for help?  (Come on - swallow your pride!)

These are just some of the questions I had this week... Anybody got answers?