Reflections

I stood there unable to move, my heart pounding beneath my thin t-shirt. My mouth was dry and my eyes closed. As I opened them slowly the sight before me came into view. As I blinked back the tears it became clearer what I was beholding.
It was a long time ago. It was the time of hopscotch and skipping. It was the time of sums and exercise books. It was the time when I still had a best friend. It was the time I still had a brother.
Years later the same vision still comes and goes as it pleases, to haunt me, or maybe to blame me for moving on with my life. How strange it is for me to revisit that day all those moons ago. Two children, running along the cliff’s edge, full of life and adventure, were playing games of mystery and delight.

Perhaps I remember so that I can be thankful that I am still here. Maybe it is a sign that it was not my time to go. Destiny had other plans for me- plans of marriage and plans of children. Destiny can be cruel to some.
I still to this day wonder, what if it had been me? What if I was the one who jumped first? But to dwell on these questions is to reopen a deep, raw wound. I still have not healed. Maybe I will never heal. I have lost half of myself, perhaps the better half. I now have to continue on my own. A husband can never quite replace the closeness between twins. Two children cannot fill the deep void left by his untimely departure.
I take solace in the fact that his life will forever be celebrated and will never be forgotten. In time it is this celebration of life, which may heal my wounds, but I will always carry the scars of his loss.