I received a sweet surprise this morning. Tanamin, my twin’s beloved, emailed me a voice file of my twin reading a novel. That was so wonderful of him! Thanks to my twin’s sweet beloved.
One month has passed today, since my Kishma’s passing. It is a marker in my ability to continue forward. I am doing surprisingly well but I am also keeping myself very busy. I took the day off work because I didn’t want any tears there. Jim is home and has been puttering around trying to get our suburban running and having challenges with it.
I have been keeping myself busy with household chores then I started sorting one of the boxes of Kishma’s books I brought home. When Tan said that I could go through her stuff and take some, I don’t think he realized I would have taken everything. Every jot and tittle as they say NOT because I wanted stuff. But because I wanted her. So I maintained and just took items I would actually use. He has some wonderful ideas for her books as he will donate them to a local library.
In taking some of her books I found one that was a favorite of both Kishma’s and myself since we were six years old. Truly! One of the first “library” books we ever checked out. It is “The Fox The Dog and The Griffin” by Poul Anderson. A wonderful little love story. And no doubt a major influence of our love for fantasy, gryphons, and talking animals.
I was just going through my cell phone voice messages trying to find one I need to return, and Kishma’s voice came on… So unexpected but I am so very grateful that I hadn’t deleted it. She was sweetly saying. “Hi sis, I’m a dufas right now and I can’t figure out my phone…probably caused by the new blood pressure meds….be patient with me…”
How can one be happy and anguished at the same time? I don’t know.
But I now know first hand it CAN happen.
When I got home this evening, I sat on my bed and put my earphones in to listen to Kishma’s voice message at home, where my tears wouldn’t disturb anyone…and after listening to it I pushed #7 to play it again..but it deleted it! ….Oh my stomach sank to my feet as I cried out loud.
I just wanted to hear her voice…
Oh my gosh, the human mind is tricky, tricksy, frightening and funny.
I stopped at the local Walmart near my daughter’s high school, after dropping her off for seminary (a very early class.) I needed to grab a salad as I have mostly been very careful about what I eat since my twin passed away.
I wandered through the store to pick up a couple other item and came across some zebra purses. I had the brief desire to buy one then told myself, “No. I’m not Kishma. She collected zebra’s not me.” I chuckled at myself for the brief impulse knowing she would have laughed as well. Then I picked myself up a new blouse to change into, and headed to work.
Yep…that photo is me in the new blouse. And I TRULY didn’t realize what I had done until I had it on and was sitting at my desk, reading the e-mail Tanamin had sent last night (thanking me for brownies I had sent to him and his family.)
Truly. No clue.
If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry.
I Googled “Controlling Grief” (as if that could be done.) I came across an interesting post. Not because of the majority of the content, as I had read it all before. But because of the very last paragraph.
1-hour of time on the first base paint.
Recognize that you will always get something when you have to give something up. Look for that gift! Find that something. When one door closes on life, don’t waste you time pounding on it. Instead, look for other options. Be alert to unexpected opportunities and embrace them. Something very wonderful might happen…!
Don’t get me wrong. When I first read this paragraph, my immediate thought was, “I don’t want the gift. Give Kishma back.” But I know that isn’t an option. The little 5-year old stomping her foot is not going to get her way.
So I try to look in my heart, to find the gift Kishma wants me to find.
Sunday began as a difficult day. I wanted to sleep to cover the quiet anguish. I teach adult Sunday School at my church every other Sunday and last Sunday was my turn to teach. But even that didn’t matter. When my hubby asked, “Are we going to church today?” and I rolled over and said I wanted to sleep, he was quiet. Then he gently said, “I think you should go honey.”
The relationship I have with my sweet husband is one in which he never tells me that I “should” do something. We are both adults and respect each others feelings and desires. So to have these words quietly come to me pulled me completely awake. I lay there for a moment then jumped out of bed and began to get dressed.Don’t misunderstand. I did NOT want to get out of that bed. And I definitely didn’t want to be around people. But the sound of his soft voice was as clear as an angels trumpet.
Be here. Be now. Be.
His gentle nudge helped to move me forward. I was quiet as I came around the bed to give him a hug, He knew how I felt and he was treading so carefully. I wanted to let him know I was okay and I could do it.
4-weeks to the day hour minute. I was sitting in the car while Jim was filling it up with gas and we were headed out of town when Tanamin let me know Kishma had just passed. The overwhelming grief was unimaginable. Janae, my 16-year old baby girl reached through from the back seat and wrapped her arms around the front seat, and me, because she could see my shoulders shaking as I tried to cry silently. Jim jumped in the car and pulled me to him, hugging me hard for a long time. I wanted to be there to hold her hand and rub her hair and back and tell her how much I loved her, even if she couldn’t hear me. I wanted to say good-bye.
I was looking up information on Grief and came across the link, 64 Things I wish Someone Had Told Me About Grief.” It’s awesome.
Kishma would be so proud of her niece Janae. She participated in a fun presentation called “Patchwork” by Mingus Union High School’s theater group. She was so nervous with her tummy in her feet but you could never tell once she walked on that stage. She was a complete natural. I wanted to share this with Kishma, who was so active at Reedley Opera House in Fresno who would appreciate it as would her honey Tanamin. She was on stage for such a short period of time but Janae definitely “owned” it.
This was truly the first time I had my mind pulled away from Kishma for a while. More than a few minutes at a time. And last night, falling asleep after 2am, was the first time I felt the yawning pit. I thought I would tentatively reach out my mind to touch the deepest feelings of loss about her and it was terrible. I know without a doubt that Kishma would want not me to have those feelings. Yet it feels like they are just sitting back in the corner of my mind…a yawning expanse of black engulfing grief waiting for a moment of weakness.
My sweetie and I had discussed my feelings yesterday. I reach out every few days to make sure I’m not “acting weird” or being more distant or anything else that would harm our relationship. He is so sweet as he helps me through this. And he came up with the most marvelous thought to give me comfort. We were discussing “why” it is so much harder on twins when one passes, than with other relationships. Except the passing of a spouse, no grief compares.
He said, he could see Kishma and I, in the pre-existence, grabbing on and holding each others hands as we made the leap to earth to be born. Most souls come into the world alone, and leave the world alone. But in our case, we came together. What a sweet explanation and thought! It gave my heart a huge lift to have that image in my mind.