I’ve spent the last two days sleepless in airports. I’m currently in Denver. I flew in at 5am yesterday. As soon as my mother picked me up from the airport, we drove an hour south to go to my cousin’s funeral. She passed away from liver failure on the 5th of April. She was my best friend. I spent the night before she died trying to keep myself out of the hospital.
April has been a rough month for me. I don’t know if May is going to be any better. I know realistically that just because it is a new month, that things just don’t get better right away.
A year ago, my cousin asked me to speak at her funeral. I told her I would. I flew out to Denver three weeks ago. I was already planning on coming home. I arrived on the 8th, three days after she passed. I was three days away from seeing her again. I flew home after staying up all night. When my parents saw me, they told me I looked half dead. I went to her visitation the next day and I cried a little bit, but it still hadn’t hit me.
I got up to give my eulogy. I was thankful that the pastor had everyone introduce themselves. I introduced myself as Blake. I started speaking and broke down. I got through the eulogy. I sat back down. I was only vaguely aware of where I was. Her counsellor spoke. She mentioned me by name, how much my cousin talked about me. I cried harder. Then came the slideshow. There were a couple of pictures of us from when we were growing up. I couldn’t place the context on them. Most of the pictures that we had together were taken in the last four years.
We went back to my aunt’s house. I got violently ill. I had to lay down and sleep. I hadn’t slept yet. I threw up and cried. My aunt came into the guest room where I was sleeping and asked me if I could come with her to my cousin’s room. I got up and followed her.
Amy left me a bunch of things. My aunt showed me the scrapbooks that she had been working on. For every visit, I took her to a movie. In the last four years, that was all she could handle. Amy kept every ticket stub and wrote my name on it if it was a movie we saw together. I cried more.
I went home and took another nap. I spent some time with my sisters, but for the most part, I don’t think I’m ready to spend time with them yet. My little sister is getting married on the 4th of November and I’m not in her wedding party. I don’t think I’m going to go to her wedding. I get upset whenever people want to talk about her wedding. My parents adore her fiance. They never got to know mine. They never asked me about my wedding. They never looked forward to the date. They never came home from a funeral talking wedding. My father will not be flying home for a weekend to help me with a venue or anything.
My heart is breaking and all anyone can talk about is cake. I sit there and toon everyone out and then I’m told I don’t participate enough.
I fly back today. I have tomorrow off from work. I’ll probably be cleaning and organising and getting myself back together. I’ll probably be grieving alone so that I can finally deal with things.
I don’t know when I’m going to go home again. It’s too hard.
I keep focusing on graduating in 370 days. I keep focusing on writing things that need to be written. Taking pictures. Living life. Moving forward.