Headaches, Malfunctions, and funny little Skeletons.

94,93,92,91

I've felt an immense amount of loss in my lifetime.
My entire 18 years of living, breathing in lungfuls of air, heartbeats matching every step I've ever taken.
I have lived every moment of my life. The good the bad, and all that there is in between.
And yet, people still die.
I still get the phone calls. I still feel my heart shatter. It's mind-numbing, limb-tingling, breathtaking...
Loss.
A loss of words for what to say to those who were closer to them than myself.
A loss of feeling, in your fingers and toes, and mind- what to think in that very moment.
A loss of love.
Where do they go?
How do I know that they are safe?
Who do I go to talk to school about? How am I supposed to catch up with someone in another life?
Where do I put my school pictures up where I know that they will see?
How do I call on them if I know the line will always be dead.
No voicemail, not even a ring.
But my love is not out of service.

I miss the way my great grandmother's laughter would fill up the entire room, I was too young to understand why everyone would stop and listen and how those aching seconds of melancholy would fill the void right before the talking would start up again. How do grownups know when it's time to appreciate someone before it's too late?

I miss the way her skin felt like a tattered book page, she smelled of cocoa butter and something out of a hallmark movie, she wore the most beautiful handcrafted jewelry that I've been trying to look for. How was I to know that she would pass away before I ever got to reach her again?

My uncle was a wall. A tall strong wall, with a bellowing voice that wrapped you up like a song. He was filled with happiness and never let you go without a little bit of his money in your pocket. All big-boned built like he was gonna lift the cars he fixed himself.

But when I saw the last picture ever taken of him, he was a hallow sick man.
I'd never seen that version of him in my life.
And when that call patched through from 2,000 miles away, a cry crawled up my throat and I never knew that someone so loved could sign their own papers, make their own decisions. Take their own life, medically.

It's been years, and months, and I still don't understand how someone can be there and then not be there. A vacant body with no soul left behind for a sister to see. I'm lighting candles and setting out food so that they know I'm here waiting for them to return. I'm begging for a dream light, a tough of their magic, I want to know that they are safe and secure in knowing that they are so missed- beyond me. Beyond just my family.

I wanna know if they can still love me, the way I love them- beyond the world that keeps us apart.