Grief

As my sister was dying of Lewy Body Dementia, I wrote; trying to process the experience of watching someone dear lose the ability to be who they are. And trying not to lose myself in the midst of it all.

Over the weeks to come I will share some of this writing here. It’s still excruciating for me to read. Monica has been gone from my sight for over a year. The grief is still present, less raw, but a profound part of me.

In sharing what I’ve written, my desire is to honor my sister and to honor the pain of our family as we lost her.

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I took a cup of frozen yogurt 
to her 
and sat 
with her 
as it melted,

spooning bites
into her mouth

whenever 
she would begin her ever-present monologue 
“they are going to kill me….where’s my baaabyyy?” 

This is grief, 
living and breathing and dutifully swallowing frozen yogurt 
grief 
sitting beside me and residing within me. 
For all that is lost. 
For all that will never be. 

At some point 
amidst her halting speaking, I hear the words 
“I just want” 
then there is a pause, so I lean in and 
softly probe 
“what is it that you want, sis?” 
to which comes the almost too coherent reply 
“to be normal”. 

And, yet again
tears
rush and spill over.
I have never known a grief this raw,
well, maybe I have.
Even so, this feels like heart-tearing
soul- wrenching
breath-stopping
grief.

We try to spread it thin, share it,
my nieces and I,
my siblings too.
Yet it is so deep and thick
so all -about- me,
as I sit, spooning in the dripping, melting
frozen yogurt.

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