No woman, No cry

The day that changed my life forever.

On this day, three years ago...

I remember B waking me up… something was wrong, but instinct told me to thrust any hideous, sickening thoughts to the depths of my soul and disregard. I kept telling myself that my baby sister and best friend had been re-hospitalized. Yup, that was it. I told myself she must be getting worse, and that was the reason I was sitting on the edge of my bed – watching my significant other hurriedly pack me a bag so we could get on the road.

You see, I had slept in that morning… and my phone was off. B left work to come home and wake me. When I came to, I immediately turned my phone on. A few voicemails (which I did not listen to) and an odd text message from a good friend that read “Taylor, I’m so sorry” (or something to that extent, I can’t remember verbatim)

I felt sick to my stomach – I thought maybe that text message was just an act of kindness from our friend knowing that, for a long time, my family and I had been on a rollercoaster ride that was my sisters health; knowing the course of the month had been a true test of strength for all of us.

“What is going on?” I remember asking B a few times... with no response.

“Just get ready, I’ll drive…. It’s going to be ok” she finally assured me.

I knew that she knew what was really going on and that she was protecting me from something. I knew that she had spoken to my mother, and I knew that she was not telling me for a reason.  I also knew had a two hour car ride during which I was not going to get any answers. Honestly, I didn’t want any – I didn’t press the issue. I was not looking forward to hearing about whatever was going on. So again, for self preservation - I chose to ignore the worst case scenario that my mind had on replay and hope for the best.

Plus, my sister couldn’t die. That only happened to other people. Not me. Definitely not me.

In all honesty, I cannot remember the ride home. I think I was attempting to prepare myself for something no one can ever be prepared for. I was hopeful and scared, nervous, anxious,... quite frankly... my brain was on overload and my skin was crawling. Thoughts that raced quietly were torn between “worse and worst”. I knew it wasn’t good, but I was praying that I would witness a faint relief when I walked through the door and heard that reality was not “the worst”.

As I walked to the door, I had my purse and a slouchy duffle slung over my shoulder and forearm. I remember walking in; casual… as if I could create any truth my heart desired by acting like everything was normal.

My parents stood ahead of me. I looked at them inquisitively and my father bravely sputtered:

“Timberly…. passed away last night”

For a millisecond I thought he was kidding.

But then, my dad started to cry.

For most of you, you won’t grasp that concept.

My Dad… started crying.

The type of cry that I have only witnessed from him one other time in my life.

And just like that, I knew it was real.

I will never forget that MOMENT. I will never forget what it felt like or how it changed my life.

That instant is one I carry with me every day of my reality. She is gone. I wouldn’t believe it.  I couldn’t believe it. I would never get to say good bye, or tell her I was sorry for anything and everything I did or didn’t do, I wouldn’t be able to kiss her and hug her as tight as my arms would allow – I wouldn’t be able to tell her how much I love her and how much she means to me. I would never be able to express that even though she was my little sister, I look up to her in so many ways.

When you lose someone– you realize there’s so much you never said. You realize that life is precious and life is short – to tell people you love them, to be kind and love with your whole heart. It changes your life.  It is remarkable … the priceless lessons you learn, that ironically come with such a hefty price tag.

The same second I realized the truth… that this was the next chapter of our story – my knees buckled, and I was on the floor. I remember repeating “no… no. no. no.” softly, through wet tears that seemed to melt my face. I remember gravity hit me quickly, my legs refused to support this newfound weight.

Everything else is a blur. I remember my mom being there. Hugging us and whispering loving, encouraging words full of hope – even through her endless heartache. It’s funny as I look back, that I mostly remember my father. Maybe it’s because I had never seen him as vulnerable as he was then. My mom has always been a very loving, sensitive person while my dad has been the rock. Maybe I remember because the severity of our situation shown bright through him… our rock, now so crushed and so broken.

After that I slept.
I blacked out. While my parents built themselves back up, into the brick walls that they had to be for the next few days – I selfishly clung to my broken heart, body, and soul.

The funeral and the aftermath are better saved for another story.

No one can understand what losing her has done. If you have never lost someone you truly love, with every ounce of your being… you simply cannot begin to comprehend. If you have, then you will understand that every loss in unique. The pain that my parents feel is worlds different than the pain and loss that I suffer from. My pain that comes from losing her is unique, unique to our bond, our relationship, our memories, our inside jokes and stories, our childhood together….

Timz,

I miss you in amounts more than words will ever have the capability to express.
I love you with my whole heart.
Continue to keep me strong
&

Stay with me.

With everything I am,

I love you and miss you.

Your big sis,
Tay