What we don’t like to talk about is how death makes things easier. There’s less to do, less to look after. Life can go on. I hear the click of the Zippo, turn my head and speak over my shoulder, without really turning around. “Was it you?” I ask. Nikki exhales. I can’t see the smoke, but I can smell it. “It’s what you made me for, isn’t it”
My older sister hasn't been gone long (12/06) and I find I just can't do anything at all the way I used to. I don't know if I ever will. I tried to write about these things in "Learning Curves" on ello a few months ago, when she told me the cancer was back, everywhere, so you may know what I tried to do. I don't know anymore. I think this - what you wrote here - is very good and I appreciate it.
You don't have to worry about the person who's moved to the next plane. But you do worry about pain you may have caused that person earlier in life. Or just not having them around when one needs advice. It probably wouldn't change anything if they were there to talk to but it crops up anyway.
My older sister hasn't been gone long (12/06) and I find I just can't do anything at all the way I used to. I don't know if I ever will. I tried to write about these things in "Learning Curves" on ello a few months ago, when she told me the cancer was back, everywhere, so you may know what I tried to do. I don't know anymore. I think this - what you wrote here - is very good and I appreciate it.
Just sending some love on what I know will be a mean day for you. Look after yourself and let me know how it goes.
You don't have to worry about the person who's moved to the next plane. But you do worry about pain you may have caused that person earlier in life. Or just not having them around when one needs advice. It probably wouldn't change anything if they were there to talk to but it crops up anyway.