It would have been easier to talk about the loss of my dad, both grand parents but I thought of using this exercise to challenge myself. What have I lost, what am I scared to the point of insomnia to lose – my sanity, my family.
Some years ago I “lost” someone I was really close to, an instrumental part of my youth. She is seven years older than I am and a very giving soul. We dated and married siblings, had kids, did dinners and outings together. The bond got strained when I went out to work and she became a stay at home mom. Did I pull too hard to have her create her own identity separate from being identified as someone’s wife but then again I had found things out that she didn’t know and I couldn’t share. Still we tried to stay connected. Lunch certainly, girl talks yes, she wanted to get a part-time job which I secretly applauded but she changed her mind.
She started unraveling right before my eyes. Conversations and arguments we shared as children became her reality as an adult, accusations about being recorded by the government. She was later diagnosed with schizophrenia. On one of our final visits, I had to walk through two locked doors to visit. When I walked through the first door, the nurse walking with me informed me that I could not be allowed to see her if I was sobbing (I was hysterical by the second door) so by the time I walked in my eyes were red and swollen.
It’s been almost 6 years since I have seen her. I remember her often especially around the holidays and when I see her children. I know she is doing ok not better but ok. I keep up with her activities through other family members but I can’t bring myself to see her to visit. Afraid that she is not the person I remember, the person that I shared so many moments with, afraid that the person I want to be there is lost to me.
“The most painful goodbyes are the ones never said, never explained.”