I finished the book, My Sister's Keeper last night. I had heard for ages that by the end I'd be bawling my eyes out. My cousin Karen described it as the ugly cry. Big wet tears streaking your makeup and making your eyes red. I didn't cry at all, but the ending ripped my heart out.
It hit a little too close to home for me. The final chapter is written by the lead character's sister and she talks about how, after losing someone we start thinking of our lives with that eternal void. I can totally relate. She spoke about watching a funny show on television and then feeling guilty for laughing. I remember that feeling. She spoke about waking up and instantly knowing what was missing from your life. I live that each day.
This stuff doesn't make me unhappy and by no means do I live a depressed and gloomy life, but I am acutely aware of how things are different for my family and I because my mom isn't here. She hasn't been here for years, yet she's still a part of everything. We're no longer too raw to speak her name or recall how much she would have loved something. We're not scared to remember the good times anymore, but that took time.
My aunt told me years ago that for the first year after my mom died, my Nanny, Aunt Sharon, Aunt Dolly and Aunt Betty cried each day over the loss of their baby sister and daughter. I don't cry every day and neither do they anymore, but those tears can still find me out of nowhere.
Perhaps what I liked most about the last passages of the book was knowing that what I've been feeling for ages happens to people who've suffered a loss. I've never felt alone in my feelings, but sometimes finding the words to describe what I feel can be tough. Last night, I read some words on a page and felt my heart sigh a little...finally.