A SISTER'S GRIEF JOURNEY

I sit on my wooden stairs, which feel cold and hard. Just like what I am about to be told. “Kelly has stage 4 cancer, and he's probably not going to make it.” My stomach tightens, and my mom’s eyes begin to well up. I don't remember much after that, except that a large black cage appeared in my living room. “Kelly’s moving in, and so is his dog, Luna.” Over the next 9 months, our house was filled with laughter, witty jokes, and another crazy dog. Except there was a dark, ominous cloud hovering. Kelly was declining, and we all knew what was coming. My brother, Hudson, struggled to cope, and as a result turned to drugs. Luna knew he needed her, so she took up residence in Hudson's room. We lost my step dad that May. Like the phases of the moon, something shifted, and Luna was now always at my hip. With everything going on, I felt isolated. Yet in the darkness of grief, Luna became a glimpse of light from the moon.

 

After Kelly died, our house became a warzone. Hudson was using, and addiction took total control. Countless rehabs, therapies, and a wilderness camp still couldn't tame the beast that is addiction. As for me, I was helpless, out of control, and it seemed as if my life was the waxing crescent of the moon, leaving me in darkness. The one constant I had was Luna. She was on my bed or next to it, licking my tears, and nuzzling her head under my neck. Aptly named, she was a small piece of Kelly, and I found comfort in that. Little did I know, my world was about to shatter even more.

 

I lost my brother—Fentanyl, the silent killer. The boy who had lived down the hall from me for 16 years now has a forever-empty room. This was paralyzing. I was alone, and no one could comfort me, except Luna. Laying on top of my entire body, giving dog kisses, constantly putting her head on me, and barking until I got out of bed. Sometimes I would find her laying in his room, which told me that I wasn’t alone in my misery. She knew what I needed without either of us saying a word. In time, I started seeing license plates that read “JHM;” Hudson's initials, and Kelly's favorite song played while we prepared for Hudson's service. These people I had lost became like the moon during the daytime; I couldn’t see them, but every so often, they let me know they were with me.

 

Now, many lunar cycles later, I am returning to high school, after three years online. I have a renewed energy and tenacity for this phase of my life. My new perspective and appreciation for life allow me to enjoy school and my supportive friendships. I have even picked up dog training, which has made Luna and me inseparable. Luna helped me find purpose, and I hope to open my own dog rescue someday. Finally, this waning gibbous is transforming into a full moon, bright and strong.

 

As my life waxes, changes, and maybe sometimes darkens, I am determined to keep going. I am ready to face any challenges life throws, and I have the confidence to persevere. My drive and passion for life energizes me for college and the phases thereafter. If it’s one thing I have learned over the past year, it is that life keeps going, the phases don’t stop, and the only choice you have is to expand as you move forward into the future.