So we drove through Shakespeare’s country. We drove over Stratford-upon-Avon and into the countryside. Past Cromwell and into the city lights of Coventry. I was taking it all in.
I was struck by the serenity and the tranquility of the countryside. It was like being in the rain, with the raindrops curling and splashing down on your forehead as you head out of your grandma’s house to play in the puddles. I was young again, and my mind was filled with wonder.
Earlier on, I had cried. I leaned over to kiss my sister goodbye and she shed tears. We had never before shared the grief of her loss, those many years ago. I had been strong for her, and she had held back for so long, in slow wonder if I could ever be the promise that she knew I was.
We have that connection to the past, me and her. We have a common sentiment in the regard for love and for family. So when I took her through my pain, and I shared with her the loneliness, she felt like she was in exile. She wanted me to know that.
I promised to take care of the kids before. At the time, I was overcome with all these feelings which eventually led me under. She feels guilty for not having been there for me during those times. But she has a strong spirit. I know that to be true because through everything, she has remained strong and remained true to the person that she knows she is.
She lives alone, but with friends. She never went to the healers in the same way that I did, she never spent a night in hospital, but she grieved and she got herself together for the sake of the kids.
I think she is a hero, and I think we are both inspired by the hero that left us that night. She soldiered for years, after. And I think of her struggle often.
But I always wanted to tell her that she should not soldier alone. Soldiers die you know, they fight too long and they die, and all of their pain is lost when peace does come around. But fight for the peace, and you must see it when it comes. And you must rest, and enjoy that abundance. And dont be alone, feel the emotions as they come and cry and laugh, and you do that.
The hero that lived, loved, and left wants that for you. I’m sure.