It’s been almost ten months since I lost my younger sister to Cancer. To say it’s been a difficult time would be an understatement.
Some days it feels so fresh, and it’s true what they say, that a sudden wave of grief hits when you think you are beginning to cope. It’s that moment when you think of something you would like to tell her, or when you think of her cheeky laugh. When you imagine her sitting on the floor, as she always liked to do – never one for the sofa. Of that moment when you imagine her answering the front door with a joke and a hug. So, in my experience, you never get over losing someone you love – you just adjust your life around the pain, and slowly begin to let the memories in, and smile at them, rather than cry. It is still early days for me – I’m sure it will get easier with time.
I still cling to the white feathers, and believe they are messages from her, telling me she’s OK – perhaps I believe because I need to. There were two on the rose we planted in her memory, the other day. And a few weeks ago, there was one on a bench we put in her garden in her memory. They keep me going, even if perhaps I sound a little crazy.
One thing that helps me get through is my writing. At first I struggled – and wrote very little, but now it’s my go-to, along with chocolate, and really helps. I think it’s the way it takes your brain somewhere else – away from the grief.
‘Her Last Lie’ has so far raised £2500 for Cancer Research UK, and I want to thank everyone so much who has bought a copy of the book, reviewed it, or helped me in any other way with my fundraising. I hope what I’m doing may help others in the future, and maybe one day nobody with have to go through what my sister went through. Thank you! x