Monday, June 6, 2011


Today I was at the girls' house trying to organize the stuff we still need to bring home to our house.  I randomly was going through a box of Jeanne's things when I found a framed picture of Jeanne, Mike, K and I.  It was at the Weeping Radish German brew pub in the Outer Banks, NC.  We all have huge smiles and a beer in our hands.  Mike has his arm around me.  I immediately started sobbing. 

I have no idea why these moments of grief still sneak up on me.  Being in their house is still so hard, yet comforting at the same time.  It's empty of most things now, but it still feels like them.

The picture is now on our mantel.  I hope I can look at it one day without crying.  The strange thing about grief is that I long for the time that I can see pictures, think of them without the tears, but at the same time I don't want to get to the point that it doesn't hurt.  I don't want to forget them.  I want them to know how much we miss them and are devastated by their death.  Not just because of how this has effected the girls, but how much we miss them as individuals.

I just miss Jeanne.  I want her back.  I want my sister.


  1. Time is the best friend, and worst enemy of those grieving. I still catch my breath and have difficulty breathing some days if I find an unexpected photo of Hannah, and it's been (good Lord, how is it even possible?) almost four years. :sigh:


  2. Thanks Rach. The movers are at the house as we speak. I need to be concentrating on work and I just can't. My mind and heart are elsewhere.

    Hugs right back.

  3. Oh, Peg, I'm so sorry. You know, grieving for a grandparent who has lived a long life is one thing. Grieving a sister, a child, someone who had decades of life ahead of them is another matter entirely.

    Yes, grief is grief. It hurts, it sucks, it's HARD. And yet, with the loss of Jeanne and Mike, and with the loss of Hannah, we lost the future.

    I hope the girls are holding up okay. They lost more than their parents today. :o(

  4. I'm so sorry. It's cruel that real love can mean feeling real loss. I'm glad you had a sister you loved so much, and I'm sorry you don't have her any longer.