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Thursday, January 6, 2011

Chronicles With Coping...Or Something Like It.

The Superficial Blur Of Things. Chapter One.


I've been feeling the need to write for weeks now.  Only I haven't known where to begin, what to say, or even what it is that I am feeling.  Part of me is scared of what will come out, if I really allow myself to sit down and admit to all that I know is lingering, all that I havent allowed myself to answer inside.  'Did she know I loved her', 'Was she scared?'.  It's a weird internal struggle with myself daily.  If I let my mind wander, there is no limit to where it will go.  That is a scary notion knowing that for every question I have to rely on everything but Ash as a source for the answer.  I find myself getting mad for even thinking about what her last moments could have been like, because truthfully speaking, the phrase alone is still troubling.  As we were getting ready to move down to ICU, I couldnt help but be angry.  A nurse came in and hugged me, which made me mad too.  One, because perhaps I should have known, but her name was lost to me.  And two, why are you hugging me?  What does that mean?  I read into everything.  Perhaps she was just trying to comfort someone way too young to be going through all of this, and in hindsight, I am sure this was probably the case, but as a nurse, what do you know that I don't?  By the time we got down to ICU, I was in silent tears.  Ash was already in her special place, she was really good at this.  When things on any given day would hurt, or get scary, she would close her eyes, and let her  mind take her somewhere while the nurses did what they needed to do.  Still, even with her eyes closed, and her form of meditation happening, I didnt want to let her see me crying.  I didnt want her to know that I was scared, and really I dont know if I was scared or overwhelmed.  I needed her to think that this was just like everyother trip we'd made down to ICU, becuause at this point ICU had become regular for us.  Only, this was not the same.  I waited in the waiting room for almost an hour, alone.  As a nurse walked me in to see Ash, she asked that I not talk to her, because she needed to concentrate on breathing.  There were tears in her eyes, all I could do was wipe them away.  I wanted to pick her up and run out of there.  I held her hand as she began to mime all that she wanted to tell me.All I can remember thinking, is 'this is not what twenty four year olds should be dealing with.'  I souldnt be gathering up my twin sisters few neccesities for yet another few days in ICU.  I should be helping her find her shoes, her car keys, as we head out the door on our way to Trudy's for a martini and probably a stuffed avocado.  And yet leaving the hospital early that morning, there was no doubt in my mind that after a few hours of rest, I'd be back in ICU, joking with her about her attractive nurse.  Even my mother's unexpected call to come back to the hospital didnt really cross my mind as that odd.  I knew Ash was having a hard time, but with all that we've been through, for this to be the end, didnt even cross my mind.  Ash passed away on Sunday December 12, 2010, with Leukemia.  Of all the most frustrating things, its not even the Leukemia that brought her life to an end.  Pneumonia and a lung infection, that doctors could not get a grasp on.  Seriously?
I havent stopped in three weeks, on the go all the time.  Mostly because when it is quiet, there is time to think, and for now I'm not quite ready to think about it all.  I wasnt ready for Ash to go, not that its something I could have ever been ready for...but utterly and completely unprepared doesnt even begin to explain it.  Emotionally, I've never felt more alone.  It's weird to be completely surrounded by loving people and feel like you can't put into words anything beyond the superficial 'thank you', and 'i'll let you know if i need anything.'  Who am I kidding?  There is a lot that I need right now, but I wouldnt even know what to ask for, nor that its even something you could give.  I can barely process what I am feeling, assuming that I'm even allowing myself to scratch the surface of all that is to come.  I don't know that I ever completely let people into my life.  Not the way you are supposed to anyway.  At one time I'd venture to say I was an open person, but in reality, I'm extremely guarded in all that directly relates to how I'm feeling.  I don't know why, and I don't know where it comes from, but for me, to open up to an extent, is to turn over control.  Control of what I'm feeling, and control of how those feelings are used.  If I hold onto it all, deal with it somehow, there are no unknowns.  The only person I've never had to let in to get everything about the person I am has been Ash.  I turn to her when things are hard, and I don't know what to do.  So to now be faced with this, and she's not there to turn to... I am at a loss.  Something that's been there my whole life, I will never have again.  Its not even a relationship I can begin to mimic with someone else.  The permanence of it all is setting in, and at night is when I feel it the most.

2 comments:

Jenna said...

Amber, this was beautifully honest. I wish there was something I could say that wouldn't be painfully cliche that would somehow magically fix everything. Unfortunately, I don't know anything. What I do know is that the amount of grace and strength you have shown is truly awe inspiring. You've definitely moved very high on the list of people I admire and wish I was more like. My prayer is that God will make it easier for you to identify exactly what you need, and provide it at every turn.

Chelsea Timmons said...

I'm not sure that any comment I could come up with could adequately follow that beautiful blog, or the perfect comment from Jenna - but I want you to know that I loved reading that...it was a beautiful tribute to your sister, your feelings, and the permanence that will always exist between the two of you. <3