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Tuesday, April 25, 2017

An open letter to my dearest sister, Lori.

Dear Lori,

I don't know how to call you, I don't think I can. I want to talk. Correction, I need to talk. Today has been one of those days. The kind that always made you say how grateful you were that you're not me. You would listen to why I have tears streaming down my face, you would allow me to cry it out a bit and then we would get to work.

Analyzing every single detail is what we did best. Your insight and wisdom always impressed me. The way you could understand the human spirit and behavior were a gift. You didn't always see it, but I did. I would hang on every word. I would hate it when you would chastise me, and you were usually right, and I would feel such comfort and calm when you would validate me. Actually, I would always feel that calm, because I had the best sister, best friend, in the world. She would listen to every word, help me work it out and have me laughing at this thing called life all before we would hang up.

Today the tears started because of my usual life's stresses. But they continued because I couldn't call and have you help me through it. My head in my hands, tears creeping through the cracks between my fingers, for you, Lori. I am finding that trying to navigate through this pain without my best friend is beyond "not fair". Life isn't fair. I know that. I have three type 1 diabetics. I know life isn't fair. But your loss has made me ask questions I never thought I'd ever have to ask. It's brought pain that doesn't go away. Its forced me to walk alone much more than I ever wanted to.

You were always there. By text, phone...even Facebook late at night. It was like a light that helped shine the way, and I wasn't even aware of how bright it was until it was gone. Now I struggle to find that way.

I do believe you are still here. On a very sweet, spiritual level, you're here. I will never believe that the universe is as wasteful as to have the souls of those that lived just go into oblivion. They are here, they are somewhere, and I know your pain is gone now. I pray that you have found some peace. I don't currently have any. Someday it may come. In fact it probably will. I don't know if what form, or in whose form, but it will come. Because, you see, I also believe that the universe finds balance in all things. When one light is taken away, another shines through. But until I am able to find that light, I will cry those silent tears and miss you more than my heart can stand.

If you're reading this, Lori, could you please help me out on this one? Could you help me find that balance that the universe surely will provide? Life isn't easy, and maybe I am just not seeing what's right in front of me. Stand by my side and give me those soft nudges that helps me to know you are listening, still. Always listening.

You were always the most amazing listener. That's what I miss most.

I love you now, and forever.

Julie

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