I'm not sure where to start other than to say that grief can suck it. If you are judging my potty mouth, then you are one of the few that haven't experienced grief. Consider yourself lucky. I lived in a very small box, emotionally. I had it very good in the sense that my loss and trials were quite normal. I thought I understood pain and mental torment and how to push through it. However, this would quickly vanish, and my life would turn upside down in a matter of minutes.
I got a call.
A very cold, matter of fact sheriff's voice was on the other end. In my naivety and a full stomach, assumed that the call had something to do with my sister-in-law's recent job employment with King George's School System. I did not expect to hear that instead of cheering on her achievements and growth in the school system, we would be planning her funeral, her end. I was in shock and disbelief as he muttered, "she is deceased, ma'am." This could not be. We had just texted two days prior about her work attire. She wanted the rockabilly look. I had to google what that was. I remarked that it looked like her taste and that she would be a badass teacher. I also noted how lucky her students would be to have her for a teacher.
What we don't see is that this endless positivity towards something so scary doesn't mean everything is fine. We don't see the internal warfare between hope and defeat. I think she truly wanted to believe that all would be well in the end. However, fear won.
I wish I could say that I am mad. Sometimes I am. Mostly, I'm just sad that we lost such a smart and talented woman. I miss seeing her new creations: on a canvas, a costume, or a sketch.
I wish I could skype Heaven and see her frolicking in a field with sunshine bouncing off her clothes, or maybe she is painting a new masterpiece. I envy Heaven for being able to witness such majestic creative vomit. I miss her hugs, her laugh, and her deep thoughts on politics and science. I was always so envious of her mind, as plagued as it was.
My hope is that now she can see how loved she was, admired, and respected. These were things she didn't believe on Earth. I want her to know that she was never the black sheep. She was our gem, a pearl trapped in an oyster.
Angele Lynn Nicole Landries, you are loved more than the stars in the sky.
I will try to go on and carry you with me. I pray that one day the sunshine won't hurt, and my skin can feel its gentle touch again.
