Least Favorite Day of the Year
Today is my least favorite day of the year. It's the four year anniversary of my sister's death. I hate today.

It's a weird day because to everyone else in the world it's just another day. So just because I feel different and sad and the day has meaning to me, it doesn't affect anyone else. Except for my family. It's a big reminder of the day my life changed completely. Two days before this day four years ago was the last time I saw my sister. It's hard to believe it's been four years since I've seen, hugged, talked to, or heard from her.

Most people don't remember that this day is 'the' day anymore. Some do remember, and that is so wonderfully special to me. It means alot. But most friends and even most of my extended family forget or don't pay attention anymore, which isn't a big deal except that it's nice when people remember. Not because I need them for anything today. I just hate feeling like I'm the only one who remembers. I don't often feel 'alone' until I'm sad for some occassion about my sister, and I realize I have no one to share that with me anymore. Not that anyone ever truly shared it with me, because I don't think that's possible. But grief is definitely lonely. I know I'm not alone, but it is a lonely thing.

My parents usually get lots of cards and flowers and phone calls today. People seem to remember that they lost a daughter. But not many remember that I also lost a sister. My only sister. I don't get cards or phone calls, or even quick emails anymore. I don't necessarily want to get stuff. It's not about stuff, and actually I don't need the lingering reminders around the house all week. It's just nice to know people care, and they haven't forgotten about me and they aren't afraid of me when I hurt. More importantly it's nice to know people remember my sister. I worry sometimes that she's been forgotten by too many people.

People forget why I might be sad or a little 'off' this week, and then I have to explain again, or sometimes for the first time. I don't mind talking about it. In fact, I like talking about it. It's part of who I am that I've had to deal with this loss, and it's made this huge part of me into something I would never have been otherwise, and that's a good thing. But I do hate watching people hear me talk about it. They change as I say the words. They become uncomfortable, like they think I expect them to do something about it, or they just don't know what to do or say. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that not many people I know can relate to losing a sibling at such a young age. My peers haven't had to deal with anything like this, and they don't know what to do with it, or what to do with me dealing with it. Plus, a lot of people don't expect that the funny girl is ever sad or that she can talk about things with depth. And people who have known me as sad over the past four years and who have been there for me at times get this look or sound of fear when I get sad again sometimes, like 'here we go again.' I think I wore them out, which sucks for me, but is understandable for them. I think people wish I was 'over it' by now, but I don't think I'll ever be over it. I hope I'm not. So I usually find it easier on myself not to say anything at all. Just to be sad on my own today.

Even though most everyone else forgets, or at least they don't let me know they remember, I don't get to forget or ignore it. I don't even write anything on my calendar to signify this day because it is forever trapped in my memory. I forget pretty much every other thing, big or small, if I don't write it down. But not today. I actually hate seeing today's date on anything. I don't date checks that I write with today's date on them. Today doesn't need a reminder.

I can't be mad or frustrated with people because they forget, and I'm not mad or frustrated about it. That's not the point of what I'm going through, and I pretty much knew there'd be a time when I'd be mostly alone with it. It's on-going for me, but old for everyone else. It's not significant to them. It's not their thing. And I'm glad for them that it's not theirs to deal with. But it would be a pleasant surprise in my day if friends and family remembered today on my behalf, and didn't shy away from me. It's a long enough day as it is. Feeling like the sad freak that no one wants to talk to doesn't help.

On the other hand, it's much simpler and kind of nice to withdraw from people, to not hear from them this week. That way I only have to deal with me.

Last year I called in sick to work. I didn't feel like dealing with work craziness on top of whatever else I might be feeling for the day. The environment here is not suitable for me to bring in outside emotions. I don't think I really did anything all day. I just chilled. The year before that I didn't have a job, so on that day my joblessness worked out nicely. I didn't have any responsibility to slough off. This year I'm at work, but I probably won't do much except get through the day. Although it feels good to stick to my normal routine. I'm actually feeling pretty good today, and that's a blessing.

Sometimes I wish my parents lived closer, when days like this come up. Anniversaries of things related to my sister's death, holidays when other people are with family but I can't be there, birthdays that we can't celebrate with my sister anymore, etc. They are the only ones who can relate somewhat to what this stuff means to me. But then again, I'm usually glad they aren't closer anymore because I can't stand to see them sad. It's weird to see your parents, normally strong and able to fix anything, now broken and sad. We've grieved together, and we'll talk today. But I think it's healthier for us these days to not encourage more depression by being sad together.

People ask me, or sometimes just assume, that it gets easier as time goes by. Or maybe they wish it would get easier because that would make sense, if grief was something that made sense. But I think to say it gets easier is inaccurate. It never gets easier. It just gets different. It gets easier to handle sometimes because I heal and learn and grow and change with it and how I handle it, but the thing itself never gets easier. I feel differently about missing her this year than I did last year at this time, but I still miss her with all of me, everyday. It still hurts. A lot. That never changes, and doesn't get easier. And actually, I'm glad. At the point in time that it gets easier to be here without my sister, I will know that she is fading away from my thoughts and memories. I don't want that to ever happen.

It will always be hard. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing. She will always be important to me.

I don't cry about it as much as I used to on this day. It doesn't devastate me anymore or put me out of commission for a day. It is more like just a normal day, but with a sad twist. I have a heavy heart. I don't feel like being funny today, necessarily, but almost out of respect. Not because I'm too sad to be funny. I just want to remember, and to make that significant. She deserves as much from me on this day.

I remember everything about that day and the following days four years ago, and I'm glad. Even the horrible stuff, things I saw and heard and went through then, things I've never told anyone about those days, I don't ever want to forget. I'll think about it off and on today, and that's a good thing. Painful, but good.

It's hard to believe my life has gone on without her, the things I've done, the places I've gone, the people I've met, the people I've lost, the things I have, the things I've learned. All things I can never share with her, yet it really still feels like she was here just yesterday. Sometimes it feels like four years has been a really long time, but other times it feels like no time has passed at all. I get frustrated with time because I don't want time to pass. I want to feel better, and I do feel better everyday. But I don't want to get further away from the last time I saw her because I keep changing, even though her picture in my memory always stays the same. I'll be old one day, but she never will. It's bizarre to me, to say the least. Not something I ever expected to be dealing with at this stage in my life.

Today I will finish my work day. On my way home I will stop by the store and buy some flowers. I'm the only family close enough to visit the cemetary, and I'll stop by there today. I've gotten to know the place well over the past four years. I'll clean up her grave marker and put out some fresh, cheerful flowers. And I'll sit for awhile. Alone. Then I'll head home and finish my day.

It sucks that's where I have to go to visit my sister. But I wouldn't miss it today for anything.

C.T.