I've always been one to love projects--at least the idea and planning of projects--and books and yarn and ice cream with friends and going out to coffee. But right now I'm stuck. Stuck in the space in my head and heart that knew Patti as a constant. But now, the constant of my sister and our shared history and inside jokes is the rug pulled from under my feet. And I'm stuck, trying to keep my balance, Keystone Cops style.
I know eventually I'll find equilibrium. I know that eventually I'll care again about books and yarn and starting a new project before I've finished the last one.
I know eventually I will smile when I see a beautiful landscape she would have loved to photograph, and to laugh when daughter Cori (who Patti seems to have imprinted her attitude on at birth) makes a snarky remark that channels her aunt.
And I know I'm missing her this much because I had her in my life. Our father gave that up when he chose to molest her throughout her childhood. Our mother gave that up when she couldn't accept any of her children unless they agreed with every last thought of hers. Our missing brother Michael gave that up when he turned his back on us some 23 years ago.
And once again, in the land of my birth family, it's been their loss.
So I'm kind of privileged to be missing her this much, because
*****I have much to miss.*****
|Miller kids, left to right: Julie (me,) Michael, Patti|
Skimmer's Recap: Missing Patti = "Good Grief."
I'd like to thank my Mental Health Care Professionals, my family and my friends, for helping me be at least as stable as I currently am. :-)