Losing a sibling

I’d lost her. Three years ago. We hadn’t known why until her autopsy. It’d been a genetic disorder. One hard to diagnose because of it affecting the entire body in some way. Our mother had died of the same thing sixteen years prior. We were kids at the time. Her death broke us in different ways. We’d grieved her death together though. Our bond was unbreakable. Or though it’d seemed. A disagreement left our bond nearly broken. We’d been mending it when she died. The guilt I felt is something I’m still struggling with. The survivors guilt being the other one. 

People haven’t understood my grief. I’ve been grieving differently because of the circumstances surrounding her death. She’d gone from being a college student to bed bound in six months. She’d barely gotten out of bed the last month of her life. I’d watched the vibrance she’d once had drain from her. Whatever she was going through drained her of the person everyone knew her to be. Our relatives hadn’t once stopped by to see her. Or help in any way. They’d not bothered to even text or call her. They’d kept up appearances when in public. Until they no longer could. People asked them questions about Riley after a while. Questions they didn’t have the answers to. Things hadn’t made sense. My truthful answers alienated them. The confrontational argument was short. I’d shamed them for everything. That my mother would’ve disowned them for their behavior. I’d told them things they needed to hear that they needed to hear. 

I’d tested positive for the same genetic disorder mom and Piper had. I’d begun doing everything I could to deal with the symptoms. Management of everything being the only thing I could do though. I’d already shown some symptoms. I knew I had time though. Piper's experience was unique to her. It wasn’t abnormal for her experience to happen though. Moms experience was much like mine. Like so many others as well. A slow progression. I knew it was a death sentence for me though. I’d gotten everything prepared. Just in case I dropped dead. I wanted everything from my funeral to a DNR prepared. I didn’t want dad to have to make any decisions. To cremate me and bury me with mom and Piper. I’d saved enough money to leave. To travel around for a while. I wanted to see enough of the country before my health got worse. I knew there’d be a time where my life would match Piper’s. I had a plan for that too. 

I’d planned for Assisted Suicide in the event my life got to the point of what Piper was going through. I didn’t want to suffer like she had. I wanted to live in Colorado prior to being diagnosed. I knew I’d be able to go through with it while living there. I knew I’d have far more help there than in Florida. Florida never really cared about people with health issues. Or them getting the care they needed. Myself and sister included. I knew I’d have some semblance of life in Colorado. After traveling the country of course. I’d felt her with me since her death. I knew she’d be with me during my travels. I knew she’d do things along the way to help me.