Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.
It is now, five months after the fact, that I can finally mourn about the death of my sister Marianne. It is as I I have all this time been living in a rat race, seizing the day and acting as if there were no tomorrow. Being endlessly optimistic and cheerful and trying to ban any negative thoughts from my mind. And now I realize how very sad I am about her death and how very much I miss her and I am left with so many unspoken words.
I talked to my therapist about this today and had a good cry, which surprised even me. My therapist had contacted me and asked me if she could be of any help at this point in my life and I thought, yes, she could be, and I made an appointment. I thought I had all sorts of different things on my mind, but right from the start, it was the loss of Marianne that was the most important issue. It was the avoidance of the pain that had driven me all these months.
All my unspoken words that I did not get to say to my sister will have to be given expression some way and I have two weeks to think about how I want to do that. That is when I see my therapist again. It is going to be a difficult task to do this because it will require me to dig deep inside and express my most sincere feelings. I feel I have to do it as a closing ritual and an acknowledgement to the special bond we had growing up together.
My therapist also thought it was a ridiculous idea of Social Services to expect me to do volunteer work in order to keep my monthly income. She is going to take care that this pressure is going to be taken off my shoulders. I had just been accepted for the job as volunteer for the service desk at the library, which is something that used to be a regular paid job, but for which they now only hire volunteers. She says that my situation is much too unstable and fragile for that kind of pressure.
You learn something new every day.