Rude Awakenings

How are you is the generic question people utilize to initiate conversation. My response these days: My sister died.

I hadn't cried dear reader, for weeks and weeks, but the last couple of days the sadness has been lurking. I haven't wanted to seek it out never mind looking it in the eye, but here it is, and there it was, each time I gave my reply, My sister died. 

My mom uses a refrain, the tongue goes to the sore tooth ~ she says this in Italian ~ and isn't it apropos, in these days of devastating occurrences, to have our thoughts and words go to what is most bothersome?

My background white, or ought I call it grey noise? is this lingering sense of perpetual loss. I carry on, do what I will, do what I ought to do, and there loss hides crouching in pounce readiness, the longer I deny its existence. 

I see her, dear reader, but I can't hear her anymore ... the mute button has been pressed and it is stuck ... 

I feel rude when I give my reply, but I also think that rude was what we lived for years on end when all the pretending kept us from communicating the important life altering news. Rude is ignoring what is happening. Rude is denying the Truth. We are witnessing rude awakenings as the current result, of what we all lived through, namely, that wicked people waved enchanted wands and cast a spell on the populace, luring them to their own demise. 

I miss my sister, but not all the time. I cannot miss her all of the time: I refuse to think of her perpetually, because it won't bring her back for another day, or even a moment. I think of her now because I cannot help myself, she was a part of my history, and who knows our history better than our siblings? She used to do these cute little braids in my hair ... no one can do those little braids like her. 

Anyways ... that's what people say when they need to move on, or dismiss a tough topic ... anyways. Writing is my temporary soul cough syrup, it soothes my spirit as I type. I know I am not alone in my sorrow. I know, dear reader, that there are many of us that are suffering great loss. I feel your pain, and pray for your peace, in Christ Jesus, and the Holy Ghost, known as the Comforter. 

But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you (John 14:26)

NOTE: My sister's brilliant smile ... she is on the left. This is from July, 2013. The little lady in the middle is the mumma, and I am on the right.