I haven't been able to write to you in over four months now, I've had a complete mental block and for the most part it's still there. I'm starting to think that the only way to break through it is to write. Even though I don't know what I want to say to you anymore. Even though I feel like my writing is now frivolous. Even though I feel like it's not important, that it doesn't matter, and that I really don't know anything after all. I'm going to do it, I'm going to write because afterwards I always feel better.
Four and half months ago, on October 11, 2013, my cousin and friend, Lisa passed away.
I feel like nothing has been the same since.
Since then I have been processing and asking and avoiding and crying and wondering. I've asked 'why' and slowly come to terms with the fact that there is no answer for that question.
I've blamed God, I've thanked God and I've begun to realize that when it comes to matters of life and death, God is not picking and choosing, it's just the natural cycle of coming in and out of our world.
This would be a lot easier if Lisa had been a terrible mother. She was the greatest mother.
This would be a lot easier if Lisa had been an awful wife. She was the most loving wife.
The most loving daughter, friend and cousin.
She hosted my bridal shower. When you were born she hosted my baby shower and gave you your wooden table and toy box. She is Jack's Godmother. She loved having the family Christmas at her house every year and still used the place cards that Teghan wrote when she was just a little girl. She organized an amazing golf tournament to raise money for the Hospital for Sick Kids. She made the best Slush and martinis. She loved baseball and Zumba. She loved dressing up at Hallowe'en. She did everything she could for her kids. She planned family vacations. She put her family first.
Some days I still can't believe she's really gone.
I had pictured the two of us having each other when our parents are gone.
She was supposed to be at your wedding.
She was supposed to be there at every step of Teaghan and Chris' lives.
She and Bruce were supposed to grow old together.
So you're probably waiting for the "Something Profound" part. I was watching a movie the other day and they were interviewing a grief counselor, he said that "grief is love's unwillingness to let go". It's true, it's so hard to move beyond grief when I don't want to let her go. I want to see her this summer. I want her to come again at Easter so we can do another egg hunt outside.
But, then I ask myself, what would Lisa want me to do?
She would want me to love life fully just like she did. And I can't love life fully if I'm stuck in this hole of grief.
Then I ask myself, what would I tell you to do if you lost someone you loved.
I would say "Claire, you have to love the person enough to let them go. Let yourself have peace. Remember them with an open heart of love and joy and not one of resentment and bitterness."
I'm not at the part yet where I can be grateful of the life she lived, even though it was an amazing life, i'm just not there. But I will get there, I will let go, and I'll do it a little more each day. Lisa loved reading this blog so I will keep it up and remind myself that nothing, done from your heart, is meaningless.
Love you Claire,