Until reality sinks in
by Julie Knaak
Do you know what my favorite time of day is? It's when I'm sleeping. I remember my dreams every night- it's the gift and the curse of having narcolepsy.
During the day, I can't help myself. I think about you all of the time- there are 24 years(your horribly shortened life) of memories and inside jokes that hit me at the cruelest of times. It's still one of the first things I think of in the morning. I'll hit my groggy waking-up stupor, until my mind realizes, "Oh yeah. Shawn is still dead."
It's not that I'm in denial- I was next to you and watched you labor to breathe until no more breaths came. I was extremely involved in your funeral, the tributes, your medical journal which became my family's grief journal- trust me- the awful reminders are in my head.
Part of me, naively, wants to believe that you are just away at the hospital in Omaha. That you'll be back.
People say that being dead is like being "in the next room". That there really isn't much separating the living from the dead, and that they are just around the corner. That makes me angry. Don't tell me that he's in the next room if I can't go see him or laugh with him. Don't tell me that when I just want him with me.
All of the joys I experience are dampened because I realize you can't be there. Oh God- when we finally try for a baby, it will be so hard not to share that with you. Not to have "uncle Shawnee" hold my child.
I miss you terribly. I'm SO sorry this happened to you.
I love you. Always and forever.
Julie, Forever Shawn's sister.