This year I have really felt the loss of both my mum and sister. I still miss my brother, but so much more time has passed since he left, and I have come to terms with him not being around.

Since they passed, I have muddled though my my life, going through the motions of what everyone expected me to be. I stepped up, when my kin had no one else to turn to, I wore my mothers' mantle, as best I could. But it was always going to be way too big for me, and her shoes were way too small, but my protests were never heard.
From then, people failed to see the real me, anymore. They saw my strength, my kindness and strong mind, but not the woman who was really falling about. A woman who was feeling so utterly crushed and paralysed, by grief, unhappiness, loneliness and her own spiralling health problems.
Every one needed someone to turn to, and in most cases that was me. I had time for everything and everyone, the callers on the other end of the line, knew nothing about the agony they inflicted on me, when I listened to them cry, and speak of their sadness. They had no idea, just how much my heart was breaking, or the true sense of loss that I was feeling, while I stayed strong for them.
And before I knew it, years had passed, and I still had not really grieved their loss for myself. Anniversaries came and went, and now we hardly talk about them anymore.
This last year has been particularly hard. There have been so many difficulties and hurdles in my life that I have had to battle my way through. There have been so many times when I have needed them, but have had to make do with one-sided conversations, imaginary answers and memories that have been evoked by my missing them so dreadfully.
This is the first year, since they passed, when I am truly on my own. There is no one else to steal my time and attention. For the first time I feel that I am free to properly grieve, to let all my sadness and hurt out, because the agony has been killing me. But my tears refuse to fall, maybe they are not sure why they are being called on. After all, I've come through the other side, beaten and bruised but still intact, still somehow whole, and more than just hanging in there.
They have and always will remain very close to me, they come to me everyday in thoughts and memories, that can either make me laugh or cry, but they always serve to make me remember them or a lesson I need to learn. I remember their courage and strength, and I am reminded that we were cut from the same cloth, that I am also brave and strong. That no matter what happens, I will rise, time and time again, until I take my final fall.
I know they are willing me, not to be blinded by my sadness anymore, or weakened by my grief for them, even though it has taken so long. I sense they are telling me to find my courage again, to move on and enjoy this new life.
Maybe they telling me that it's time to let them go. Sx :)
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