Sunday, March 30, 2014

"She who leaves a trail of glitter is never forgotten"

This is just a little something I wrote last semester and I wanted to share...

“She who leaves a trail of glitter is never forgotten.”
My dad brought my younger brother and me into the family room. We never have family meetings. I assumed it was about my older brother who had just moved out the day before. We didn’t exactly end things on a good note when he left. I figured I was going to be there a while because when my dad starts talking he doesn’t like to stop. I sat down and grabbed a pillow and crushed it into my lap. I relaxed into the corner of the couch waiting for a lecture to begin. I could barely see him because it was kind of dark in the room because the lamp had burnt out earlier that day. He was also still wearing his work suit so he almost blended into the darkness. I could tell it needed to be dry cleaned because, there was a spill on the left side of his jacket.
 After my mom came into the room and everyone was settled in my dad stood up in the center of the room.  He had one hand in his pocket shifting around change from earlier that day and his other hand was rubbing his chin harshly. I could tell he wanted to speak, but couldn’t utter any words. He took a deep breath as if he was going to say something, but his mouth closed and his eyes dropped to the floor. He looked down at his feet for a moment and when he raised his eyes he calmly said “Earlier today your cousin, Sydney, killed herself. They found her in her car up in the canyon.” I felt my stomach drop. I felt words get caught in my throat just as my dad’s did a moment ago. Then everything froze. My dad continued to speak, but I couldn’t hear anything. After my dad stopped speaking I remember leaving the room and going into the kitchen. There was a big white chair in the corner and I pulled my knees to my chest while I sat down in the chair. Not a tear came from my eyes in that moment. I just stared into the fireplace. There was no fire burning, but I kept watching it as if I was waiting for it to suddenly burst into flames. I felt like I was watching myself do this. I could almost see myself from across the room. I couldn’t even think straight. A million things were running through my mind, but at the same time my mind was completely blank. I tried to remember the last time I saw her. I couldn’t even remember the last thing I said to her. I hadn’t seen her in years because of the distance between us. She lived across the country so naturally we didn’t get to see each other often.
That night when I retired to my bed I could not even close my eyes for a minute without a darkness coming over me. I began to cry. I couldn’t remember why I wasn’t crying before. My cousin who was only two weeks older than me was gone. She was one month away from graduation. I couldn’t do anything to help her. I couldn’t reverse what had been done. I didn’t know what to do. That night was a long and painful night of suffering. The next day I spoke to my mom. I told her that I needed to go to the funeral. As we talked tears welled up in my eyes.
“Why?” my mom asked
“That could have been me.” I said. The silence that came over that room after I said that was deafening. “She was only two weeks older than me” I continued. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “I have to see her.” My mom scooted towards me and held me as I sobbed into her shirt.
“We will see what we can do.” She assured me. Not going to see her was not an option to me at this point, but I was worried it would be reality. We have never had a lot of spare money. I was more afraid that I wouldn’t be able to go see her than anything else.
I had school the next day. I walked into school and all I could hear was a dull roar of voices that blended together. I heard a million conversations, but couldn’t actually tell what they were talking about. Then occasionally I would hear a laugh. It would catch my attention. I was almost disgusted that someone could laugh right now. How could someone laugh when an amazing girl is no longer here? Then it occurred to me no one knew her. They don’t know the sadness that has claimed my body and mind. The whole day was a blur. Teachers talking about useless information, friends worried about their boyfriends, people poking fun at the loser kids. How is this even happening? I remember one of my best friends trying to get my attention. Even after she did I still couldn’t even comprehend what she was saying. Nor did I care. When I returned home that day and spent the whole day writing letters to Sydney. Asking why she did it and telling her how sorry I was that I wasn’t around for her. While I was writing my mother came into my room. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and sat up. She walked in and closed the door behind her.
“You and dad have a plane for tomorrow morning to go to Sydney’s funeral.” She said. I just nodded. She told me the time and how long I would be there, but I didn’t care. I felt like a little bit of sorrow had been lifted off of my chest just from the fact that I would get to see her. After my mom left my room I got ready for bed. The pain and suffering that occurred that night was not an improvement from the previous. Once the lights turned off it was like being sucked into an abyss of misery that there is no escape.
The next morning I got on a plane with my dad to fly to Utah. I was so nervous. I remember landing and getting my luggage. However from walking out of the airport to arriving at the funeral it is a total blur. The funeral wasn’t for a couple of days, but I still cannot recall much of what happened in those days. When I arrived I saw my aunt and uncle. I hugged them just as you would if you were visiting, but this was very different. They were sorrowful just as I was. When I hugged my aunt I felt her pain almost reflect deep into my soul. I knew part of what she was feeling. I looked at her and forced a smile. I couldn’t even imagine what she was thinking in that moment. After I hugged my Aunt I walked over to my uncle and gave him a hug too, but he seemed to hug me a little too tight. After all Sydney and I were close in age. I’ve always wondered if when he looks at me if he sees me or now if she just sees his daughter. After I hugged him he said something I will never forget.
“She is in the other room when you want to go see her.” He said. That hit me hard. The word she resonated in my mind. She is still a person. She is still loved. She is still Sydney. However she is just no longer with us. I walked with my dad into the other room. We arrived early for family time so we could have a private moment with her before anyone else came. I refused to look inside the casket. I could not even pick up my feet to walk towards her. I could see her red lips from across the room. A couple of times I thought I saw her chest rise and fall as if she was breathing, but I know it was just my mind wanting to see it. Then a line of people came, but the line never ended. Just a line of people who wanted to say goodbye to a beautiful girl who loved everyone. The quote “She who leaves a trail of glitter is never forgotten” was posted all over the church. This made me think of how she was the glitter queen. She wouldn’t wear it unless it had glitter on it. For a moment I almost laughed. Then I realized that her “glitter” was all the good she had left the world with. I got lost in my thoughts for a few moments. She was such an amazing person. She was good at everything and everyone wanted to be around her all the time. Then they had finally asked everyone to leave the room for family prayer. They said a prayer over the casket. Her uncle, who said the prayer, prayed for peace with the closing of the casket. After the conclusion of the prayer her bishop invited anyone who wanted to say their last goodbyes to do so. People walked up, but I had already told myself that I would not look into the casket. I planned to stick to it. A few moments later I found myself standing right in front of her by myself. I did not know how I got there. I looked down at her and began to cry. I wanted her to open her eyes and smile at me, but it never happened. I looked at her for a few moments. I did not want to remember her like this. I smiled at her wishing she could see me. I then walked away and stood next to my dad as he comforted me. Her parents, family, and best friend walked up to say their final goodbyes. Her mom touched her hair. She then leaned down and her lips touched her forehead. Then they closed the casket. In that moment when the casket clicked it clicked for me as well. It almost felt like I heard someone say “she is okay.” But no one was speaking around me. They proceeded to have a service and then went to her burial place. I felt peace after the casket closed. The way I felt was indescribable. I knew she was going to be okay. I also knew that she knows that I love her. Now whenever I speak of her it gets a little easier every time.

Sydney Taylor Bruning was and is an amazing person. I miss her terribly. Day after day I wish I could see posts on Facebook about all of the fun things she gets to do. I just wish that I could speak to her one last time. The first time I settled into the corner of the couch I received devastating news, but now when I settle into that corner of the couch I feel an incredible amount of peace come over me. I remember her and all I can think about is her glitter. To this day her glitter still inspires me to be a better person. I love thinking about how much good she has done for the world. Her good is her glitter. 

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