I was 35 and it felt as though my entire world had been turned completely upside down.
Never in a million years did I expect to lose my parents before they retired, moved back to the states, or met my children and yet, I did. Both of them at the same time. What are the odds? Trust me, I have Googled it many times and can’t find statistics.
Those first few months the grief was all consuming and I felt I would literally die of a broken heart. I could not imagine moving on, but each day came and went and I made my way through the motions and I adjusted. I moved on. Mercifully, I had a new husband so the nights weren’t as scary, many supportive friends and co-workers.
I also had my sister, Leah. The only other person in the entire universe that knew exactly what I was going through.
While we grieve differently, Leah is much more in tune with her feelings and emotions and able to cry openly and share readily, she is always willing to talk about our parents, where as I, on the other hand, prefer to remain stoic, break down privately and only share if asked. Leah and I are also almost 12 years apart in age, but I was her support then and now.
Every now and then I shake my head in complete awe of my sister. Leah was 23 when our parents died.
I will never know how difficult that was for her at that age. She was just starting her life having graduated from college only five months earlier and that is a pivotal time for anyone and certainly an important period in a young woman’s life to have her parents guidance. Not to mention, Leah and our mother were best friends, their bond was like nothing I have ever experienced.
In the past six years, Leah has flourished and grown and healed in so many ways and I should tell her more often how proud I am of her and how proud our parents would be of her too. I love you, Leah and your strength is what helps get me through.