When the world just disappears and you get lost in the clouds, time fades to the background. You don’t know if you’re falling or floating and you’re miles above the ground – you just know it all feels peculiar. You can’t decide if it’s a good feeling or if you should prepare for a rough landing.
That’s where I’ve been residing since last Tuesday. I was soaring on cloud nine with anticipation and excitement over the possibilities of what almost was and what could have been. When I should have kept my feet planted in the pavement because I’m the older sister. The loss is heartbreaking and sad but I’m not asking for explanations. When things get messed up, I just lift my head up and push forward. I won’t try to analyze it or try to fight it. I will just continue to be strong, supporting my sister.
In her darkest hour she will have to wade in the emotional waters and feel each emotion in its powerful entirety. We both came crashing down to walk amidst the blanket of fog wondering when we hit ground, surprised at how short the ride was and trying to grasp the idea of just what happened. But I will take comfort in knowing she has a wonderful support system cradling her along so she won’t be alone. I long to wrap my arms around her in a tender hug and tell her “everything will be ok” while kissing her forehead– letting my shoulder catch her tears until they run dry. I want to play music that soothes her mind and eases her worried heart. I want to cry with her.
We must take relief in knowing its all possible again and it will come to her naturally. Until then her imagination might taunt her with its tempting images of a promising future, but I will pray the my sister gets past all of this and can gain the confidence that it will come to fruition one day and she will enjoy every bit of it. But for now the world will just disappear and she will be in zero gravity. When she lands we will all still be here with open arms, silent lips and reassuring hugs.