dear bunny,
it's been days and weeks since you died, and I'm still unable to wrap my head around it. I knew it was coming, or at least I dreaded it often, but I just blocked that out of head, much like I've tried to block this out.
How can you be gone --- really dead. I can't stand to think about never hugging you again (softly like you taught me, so I don't crush your chest) Or never smelling your hair again. I always loved the smell of your shampoo.
I really think about this! I even collected some of your clothes the night you died, just so I could keep smelling you. But of course that is not the same. it will never be the same. Life will never be the same, without you.
Looking back on all our years together, I have big memory gaps. I can't figure out why I wasn't there to help you move in poolsville last time, or when you moved out of John's rented house. The only thing I can come up with is that I was protecting myself, because sometimes I just had to draw a line. I was always so susceptible to being drawn into your sadness, wanting to make it my sadness as well. I would do ANYTHING for you. Anything. I would happily sacrifice myself to make you happy. Because it's easy for me to say that I always saw your sadness, and I always wanted to fix it, or help you, or support you. But in the end I didn't know what more to do. I knew that moving you out to Mom and dads was a last resort. Life or death. I'm so grateful to them for being there for you. They made sure you stayed in school, got your degree, found a job, and stayed employed, and insured. 52 years of unwavering love and support.
When Hex and I first went out to pack your things, I was expecting the worst. I hadn't been out there in years, and for you, they hadn't been good years. But your place was just incredible, full of all your little keepsakes, carefully assembled and stacked and cataloged, and organized like only you could do. Dog bowls, wood signs, old books, sharks teeth, clocks, and leashes, and cozy blankets. All collected and cherished. I was blown away. In the midst of all your illness, you managed to keep your surroundings in order, and I felt so proud of you.
The last few years were the worst, I knew. Safe with mom and dad, but locked inside yourself. You didn't want to say much, because you didn't think you had anything to say.
After you died, and everybody reached out, all they could remember was the Sue of the past. The Super fun Sue. Always laughing, and energetic, and tan. You brought so much happiness to so many people with your smile and wisdom and caring. I LOVE to remember this Sue.
I remember all the amazing times we had growing up. You were such a daredevil, and I was always trying to reign you in. Building forts in far way woods, going under 270 in the sewer, staying up later than we were allowed to, driving a car way before you knew how, skipping school, skipping church, and playing with our christmas presents in the middle of December while mom and dad were away.
We were like twins, always together, and always understanding each other. And we loved to be together.
I remember our wrestling matches on mom and dads tall bed, which we would always start with an emphatic NO TICKLING ! Or our short back rubs,10 minutes each. And I remember you torturing me by pining my arms down with your knees and waiving your long hair in my face, or running up from the basement and turning the lights off , leaving me down there alone in complete darkness, terrified!
I never had hard feelings because I loved you so much, so genuinely, and looked up to you. I worshiped you. And I always knew the feeling was mutual.
One memory sticks out. We were punished together for some reason, and told to stay in our rooms. I remember how we stretched our little bodies across the hallway carpet, my feet in my room, and your feet in yours. I just love this image of us just wanting to be together. I remember our sleep overs when grandma and grandma would stay. We would set of the army cot in my room, and you would sleep inside your super cozy holly hobby sleeping bag. Or sleeping downstairs by the glowing fireplace. All the doors closed, you closest to the fireplace, and me pressed beside you.
So many memories that I will always keep deep inside for the both of us, and cherish forever.
I remember you always always always wanted a pet that you could call your own. First it was a mouse named bernard, then a random Fox from Leslie Valario, and finally Emma, a fox red lab that reminded you of the dogs from Where the Red Fern Grows. Emma was your prize! You trained her to be the best dog ever, and took her on adventures that all dogs would dream of. Then came Bailey, and Salinger, and Sam, and much later Emmet. All there to surround you with love and comfort and purpose.
I will never forget the night that Bailey passed away, and I came out to help you bury her. You put your sweet hand on the box she lay in, and poured out your soul to her. I had never seen an expression of love so powerful. I can't even begin to describe it here. It was so beautiful and I'm lucky to have been there to see it, and all these years later it still brings me to tears. I was so moved, and will never forget it.
Dear Sue,
Im sorry you were so sad, and so ill, for so long. I knew it, and could see it, but I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to ask you important questions, or to confront you about things I knew that were happening. I was scared it would open the infinite hole of darkness I had seen in the past. Please forgive me.
Instead we played parcheesi. Endless rounds of parcheesi with Hex and Jimmy. It was always so cool to see how this brought out the old Sue. Fun and alert and competitive and strong. I always knew that these times with you were special, and brought you happiness, even if just for a few hours a week. It would be so hard to leave, especially when you would ask for just one more game.
I can't stand to think of never getting to see you again, and to hug you tightly, and smell your hair, and hear you laugh, and see you smile. I will miss you forever. You were an amazing sister, and daughter and teacher, and friend. you always loved me with all your heart, and I still feel it, even now.
love dave
