Musings

As I write this I am sitting in a cemetery. 

Well, not technically sitting. I wasn't even planning on being here today, but I saw some pretty yellow tulips at the store I wanted to give the girls, and when I got here I decided to stay for awhile. I am currently laying on a blanket in front of the two, with a song on repeat that I stole from one of them. I may keep a blanket in my car at all times now. I'm sure people will assume it's in case of an emergency, as many people have blankets for such occasions, but mine will be for the times I decide I need my sisters. 

The dirt is hard, but it still looks fresh enough. I can't decide if it'll be easier when the grass is green and covering the cemetary, or if it'll be harder, because they'll look like all the other sites that have been here forever. There are a few pinwheels with loving notes, and some fake flowers leaned against the side in pretty vases. I should get something like that. I've gotten them flowers several times, but they've all been live, and I'd like something that lasts. I'll have to keep my eye out for something. I see a ring pop with one of the girls, and I can't help but wonder what the story is and who she shared the memory with. Must be something specific, because the other doesn't have one. With one there is an old style barn windmill, and the other has a small old truck. There is a little dairy cow perched on a stick betwixt the two. Perfect. 

It's been 46 days, and I still would call you a liar if you told me it happened. They are constantly with me, and I have crazy moments with passing thoughts where I go, "You know what's absolutely crazy? My sisters died." Because that's what it is. Absolutely crazy. Tonight I go back to my Bible study for the first time in months. The one my sister told me to go to. The one we went to together. I'm trying to decide how I'll be. One moment I think I'll be ok, and the next I'm pretty certain I'll break down the moment I walk though the door. The girls care about me, and I haven't spoken to many of them in weeks, but I'll also wonder how they'll feel. They all loved my sister and I imagine I'm not the only one it'll be hard for when I walk in without her. I just have to get through it. I just need to break the ice and go, and maybe it'll get easier. I don't know for sure. All I know is I need to make it to five o'clock. And then six. And then seven. And on and on it'll go I imagine. I think now I'll head home. Apparently I'm supposed to go to a wedding in two weeks and I need to redye my hair. And that sounds incredibly stupid in the wake of recent events, but literally any little thing I can do to move forward, even by an inch. Clean my bathroom, fold my laundry, take a test, dye my hair, breathe. I don't know how on earth I can do it but somehow someday I will make them proud. And I hope when I do they'll be able to see it.