I have been debating whether or not to make this post, which is deeply personal but which may be the usual 'shouting into a hurricane'.
On April 5th, this year, I found my uniquely wonderful sister dead in her room in the house which we had shared for many years.
She had been suffering from a number of worsening and untreatable conditions for over fourteen years and, even though her unstoppable descent made her life increasingly awful, she was valiant and uncomplaining - my hero if ever I had one.
She was incredibly clever, resourceful, kind, empathetic, generous, creative and witty, and for all that she was, a far better sister than
I deserved. Since my sisters' death, I have, by choice or necessity been talking to others about my sister, and am utterly disgusted with the casual cruelty, lack of compassion and indifference which is common on our planet - I even had one person telling me that 'in my best interest' I should stop thinking about my sister, my loss, and the horrors which were visited upon her - and how glad am I to call Earth my home!!! When I dare to complain about peoples' open insensitivity, I have been met with a litany of excuses including the famous 'people don't know what to say', (balls),
which is truly amazing as I have been confronted by stony faces and tropes such as 'life goes on', and 'death is part of the cycle of life'. This last one was said to me as most adults would patronise a child for being hurt at the loss of their pet hamster which served only to add to my grief- classic homo sapien. I am allowed to grieve, I am allowed to hurt, and I am allowed for this to never leave me.
I remembered that Bill had posted loving comments about those whom he has lost, and hope that maybe he and a few others may relate to the hopelessness of feeling tha a door has closed forever and the lifelong helplessness of never being able to be with one of those rare people who are utterly precious to oneself. I was told to 'only remember the good times', as if editing the misery and suffering from my sisters' past is a good and wholesome thing - this would be disrespectful and a dishonour to my sister' memory.
I feel certain that we should take a hard look at ourselves, and the galaxy-sized gap between how we choose to see ourselves and the awful realiuty of what we are - if I was a weaker person and needed a shoulder upon which to cry, well, it's not there.
I am lucky that she was my sister, unlucky to have lost her and she, the unluckiest of all to have been made to suffer ( we were the 'lucky' recipients of 'cruel to be kind' parental 'love').
I have taken the liberty of including a beautiful image of my awesome sister as she deserves tribute to be paid to her. Thanks for your indulgence.
Next Tuesday will mark one year since last I saw Renata alive - an unremarkable day when she was at her usual level of pain and tiredness, and for the life of me I can't remember what we spoke about before she said 'goodnight' - little did I know what was to follow - I can never forget seeing her inert form, knowing that she had been robbed of her health and the chance of a long life, and that I had been robbed of my amazing sibling.
I wish that in childhood I had paid attention to the way in which our parents' proved their despicable nature ( I should point out that they are both long since dead so there is no chance of libel and, horribly, what I am writing is the truth) - of course, even if I had pieced together some of our parents' sh*t, it would not have meant much in terms of protecting Renata or, to a lesser degree, myself. Although an unpopular view, I feel certain that as children we have no status, and, why should any child need protection from their parents?
Renata tried and tried to get help from 'healthcare providers, and the final straw for her was when she asked for help with her increasingly weak, painful and immobile hands, to be told that 'ooh, it must be hard for you to get your rings on' - had Renata been a well-heeled celebrity, she would have been assured of the best possible treatment, and would still have been alive - what a wonderful global society!
Today an inquest will take place, as the post mortem work simply was not done - a colossal lack of scruples even after her death. I will not be attending and have to face either silence or being told to leave for 'being rude and verbally aggressive' - objective truth is usually seen as inconvenient if it is ugly or unflattering - this is planet wide.
I wish that I could communicate with at least one person who has similar feelings to mine, expressing those feelings rather than just glaze over - as I have written before, anyone who has suffered should be remembered - perhaps this is the way to begin the long overdue process of reducing the poison to nothing, and start to treat each other the way that we should.
Thanks again for the opportunity to reach out - I am aware that I am not the only one who is isolated in grief, and wanting the impossible thing of having your loved one back.
I have learned a lot over the ten months since the death of Renata, my wonderful sister - that despite the fact that bereavement is common to most of us, there seems to be a reluctance to engage on this subject - maybe people don't see this as 'relatable' ? I don't know. In this ten month period, one person said that 'she must have been a brave lady' which she was - both brave and a lady, and only last week , for the first time, I was asked what ailed Renata ( the assumption was cancer, but was rampant kidney disease, heart disease and increasing pain and weakness in her extremities and there were more symptoms). This acquaintance hugged me which surprised the hell out of me!!!
I made the mistake of attending a ' bereavement support' group, and was unsurprised by the overwhelming indifference of all concerned; I guess that making ones' child disabled and ensuring their suffering is perfectly acceptable.
I don't know if the lack of comments comes from painful memories of the hurt experienced from this situation, or being accustomed to being silenced by the apathy of others, or it might just be that I seem like a silly old fool for not 'sucking it up' - once again, I don't know.
For some reason, I thought of a couplet from 'Snowbird' which I have adapted for Renata -'she spread her tiny wings and flew away, her burden was too big for her to stay another day'; I will always mourn the loss of my only family - she cannot be forgotten nor replaced. Thanks again.
A quick update - at last, some compassion from someone who has been bereaved and, sadly, understands the callousness of others - Gill, if you read this, thank you for your kindness.
As many people will know, Christmas sucks without the people you love, and this is a time of misery for many (of course, there are many other reasons for countless people to feel hopeless all year round which is detestable).
I have attached another beautiful image of Renata, taken when she was around eighteen and showing the sparkle, the light and the life of her,all of which were vacuumed out by her disabilities - she had no idea what was to happen to her in later life, and had no means of protection from this.
To watch her descend, with no chance of help (she was given the bums' rush by healthcare 'professionals'). was awful - to have been in her position, unimaginable.
Wishing all a peaceful Christmas and New Year - thanks.
I hope no-one will mind me writing a bit more about Renata - about how, even though her health problems were vast in comparison to my little niggles, she would demonstrate her love and caring for me, her daft older brother, by finding me various helpful things; how whenever she baked, she would always leave me some bread or cake; and how she would tap me gently on my shoulder to show me interesting facts which she had found online.
She would have been appalled yet unsurprised by the unspeakable horrors which are unfolding across our world, and was, in my opinion, truly a 'hippie'.
I have come to the realisation that, to many people, declarations of deep and abiding love for another who has died,(no matter the relationship) seem to be seen as something of an alien concept, and that, accordingly, displays of grief are, therefore, seen as somewhat inconvenient to them.
That being the case, I am convinced that those of us who are in a similar position must protect those treasured people and the love that was and is, even long after those who are cherished can no longer be held - please know that if you are in my situation, you are not alone, your sorrow matters, and don't let yourself be bullied by the savages.
Thank you again. - that's my lot.
I read an article yesterday in which the actor, Richard E Grant, has expressed his disgust at the way in which he and his family have been ignored and shunned in the wake of the death of his beloved wife.
He expressed many of the same things which I have experienced following the death of my wonderful sister Renata - it would seem that coldness, hardness and dismissiveness are common but are not to be discussed. Vile!!!
Thanks again to Anthea for her 'like' and apologies for getting your name wrong.
Bill, I am so sorry for your worsening health problems - I feel that you, and countless others (including Renata), demonstrate huge bravery and that your suffering is unrecognised - shame on us all.
Thank you to those who have read this post, including Andrea and Alec. I have thus far met no-one who has shown any compassion for what my sister experienced, and bear my loss alone. My sister was the only one of any worth in my family and was, and still is, truly a star in my eyes.
I realised that she and I had become buffers against the madness of this world, and that it was her presence which made our house truly home - I miss her so badly and wish that she were here.