Just as our body goes through a healing process when it is injured, our mind enters into a healing process that allows itself to recover from the emotional injury of being traumatized. It is true that you lose a mirror for your heart when someone you love, dies! There is no “sure cure” in grief. Our grieving isn’t good and it isn’t bad, it just is! Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you aren’t doing it right! There is no one correct way. There are no lists that you have to follow—no set course or specific schedule that will get you to “the end” at any specific time. In my grief journey I discovered that although the passage of time softened the pain a bit, it was what I was able to do with that time that mattered.

First, I had to give myself permission to feel whatever I was feeling and just be. A lot of mixed feelings and symptoms ebbed and flowed like the tide — shock, numbness, disbelief, denial, restlessness, confusion, lonliness, anger, guilt, shame, frustration, fear, sadness, despair, and more. The music of Zamfir, the smell of lilac, wearing purple, eating strawberries (which my sister, Cindy, loved), and watching sisters together reminded me of Cindy and triggered spontaneous tears, as did the sight of beautiful gardens and other special activities and rituals. I created a shrine to Cindy with pictures of her and lit candles in her memory, I screamed into towels, I walked in nature, and for a while I wore the clothes I inherited from her and ran my fingers through the material before finally giving most of them away. And I needed to talk, and talk some more, about Cindy and her death and not feel guilty for that need. When I was still overwhelmed, I turned to journaling and sought out a counselor. I cried, I grieved, I looked inward, I examined the world around me, I asked questions, and I ultimately knew there were implications for our society.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
The unsolved mystery of the death of Cindy James