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Surviving irreplaceable loss.
Surviving. And thriving.
Part of what this first month walking grief’s spiral has shown me — really clearly — is that my sister Barbara is irreplaceable.
I’m never going to find another human being to be the friend, listener, confidant, and story holder that my sister was in my life.
It’s just not physically possible, considering there’s no one left on the planet who knows me as long as she did. In fact, I’m out of bio-sisters now.
Instead of wondering who I’m going to replace Barbara with, I’m beginning to let that idea go, the idea that there’ll ever be that kind of person filling that kind of role for me again in my life.
Two back-to-back art shows. Not a sister replacement by any means. Yet, by all means, a gift from the universe. A focus for my energy and grief.
Instead, I keep opening my hands and asking the universe to bring it. Bring it. Bring me to where I’m supposed to go next, with whom, doing what. I’m here and I’m open and I’m ready.
It’s an iterative process. I miss her, I process pangs of grief, and I let go. Again and again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
