Posted in Friends, Memorials, Soap, Sorrow

#PinkPositiveLight

People inspire me.  A lot of soapers find amazing inspiration in nature, and lots of other things, but I’ve found that for me, it’s people. 

imageOne of the people I knew was Minaxi.  Maybe you had the good fortune of knowing her too.  She knew a lot of people!  We didn’t talk as much as I would have liked.  She ended up gravitating toward Instagram and wasn’t blogging as much anymore.  (Her family has taken down her blog but her IG is still up if you’d like to see her pictures.)  I miss her.  More than I can say. 

Minaxi exuded a lot of joy, no matter what might be going on for her.  One of her favorite tags was #PinkPositiveLight, because pink was her favorite color and she believed in being a positive light.  It suited her.  🙂

I made a soap in her honor.  I scented it with Pink Magnolia Blossom.  I was going to look for a cotton candy fragrance but when I saw that Pink Magnolia, I knew that was the perfect choice for a soap for Minaxi.  It’s light and sweet and delicate. 

I didn’t get to put in the swirls like I was hoping as the soap started setting up on me much sooner than I expected, but I think it turned out okay.  I hope she would have liked it. 

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Minaxi and her husband Vishnu left the world way too soon, but they will always remain in my heart. 

Requiescat in Pace.

Love, Vanessa

Posted in Personal, Relationships, Sorrow

Happy Birthday, Brother

Time heals all wounds, they say. 

October is always kind of difficult for me now, although some years are worse than others.  It took me a bit to figure out why this one seemed a little more difficult than years past, and then I remembered, this year is the 25th year. 

Ah.  Yes.  A “milestone.”  That explains why it’s so much more on my mind than … normal. 

But really, it’s not normal to remember your brother is dead.   None of us should have dead brothers, or sisters …

Death is a part of life only because we can’t escape it, but if we could, we sure as hell would.  Grief sucks.  And as a believer, I know death was never part of God’s plan. 

The whole month is draped in its own mourning cloth that has nothing to do with Halloween.  I got the news on the 1st – although he’d been dead several days by that point but he’d only just then been discovered.  His birthday was the 25th, and the memorial service was on the 30th, but I couldn’t go.  I couldn’t afford plane tickets and my ex … well.  Let’s just say my ex’s behavior regarding my brother’s death is part of the reason he’s an ex, and leave it at that.

I don’t write this looking for sympathy, because I’m not.  I’m not comfortable with that.  I’ve come to a place where I don’t share too many personal things on the blog anymore.  A sort of contracting, I suppose, a pulling-in, circling the wagons.  I’m not even exactly sure why I am sharing this now, although I do feel this sense that I need to honor my brother.  I need to wish him a Happy Birthday, even if God is the only One Who can pass the message along. 

He was so much older than me, starting high school when I was born, and embarrassed about his mother having a baby at his age.  He moved out when I was three, then eventually married and became a father himself.  We weren’t close – how could we be?  I figured he was just waiting for me to acquire some adult life under my belt so we could have more things in common.  I was so happy when he started calling me, and we spent quite a bit of time on the phone during that last year. 

Finally!  I thought we were finally saying “hello” to a great sibling relationship and that we would go forward as friends.

I didn’t realize he was saying goodbye.  Not until later.  Not until after.  He knew he was saying goodbye, he’d been planning it all along, and I confess, that makes me angry.  I am so kicking his ass when I see him again in Heaven.  After I hug him of course. 

I no longer believe that time heals all wounds.  I believe our grief muscles get stronger from use and so grief becomes a little easier to carry, but it never really goes away.  It’s always there.  Lurking.  Behind a picture, behind a memory, a smell, behind a certain date.  Sometimes you know it’s there, just waiting for you.  Other days it pulls a “scare cam” and then you can only cry out. 

Next year I’ll be ready.  Next year will be one of his milestone birthdays.  He didn’t have enough of those. 

Some days, I really miss my brother.

All rights reserved by Vanessence

Posted in Personal, Sorrow

Duty

Some thoughts and memories get tucked away in their little boxes and you put them on the shelf and hope you never have to open the box and look at those ugly things ever again.

Then you get asked a routine question on a juror questionnaire and it feels like someone came along and just swept the box onto the floor, spilling its contents.

Have you, a friend, or a relative, ever been the victim of a crime?

You sit there, kind of gaping at the mess on the floor, and you don’t even get the satisfaction of saying, “Hey now, please clean up the mess you made!”

All I get is a checkbox, not even a space to record what kind of crime, or how many, or against whom. 

I suppose, if I get called for duty, I will get asked to expand on that checkbox.  In pubic.  For the record. 

Things I don’t even like to recall.  It doesn’t seem fair.  I guess a lot of people go through that. 

Have you, a friend, or a relative, ever been the victim of a crime?

I could write but what good would that do?  No good would be gained and I know this because I’ve tried it already.  It’s an exercise in futility.  For me, anyway.

Just like weeping.

I like for the ugly things to remain in their boxes, where all good corpses should be. 

All rights reserved by Vanessence

Posted in Personal, Sorrow

SadNess

Why is it that when we grieve the loss of someone, it seems like not just the anniversary day of their birth or death is hard, but the entire month/s in which those events occurred?

And this morning I got news that a lady from the church I used to attend passed away last night.  She reminded me of bubbles – shimmery, floaty, swirly, filled with light and joy.  I can’t believe she’s gone.

I’m going to miss you, S.  It hurts knowing you’re not here being your beautiful self.  Please tell my brother I said Happy Birthday when you see him!