What I Prayed For

Warning: Normally light and fluffy Terra has left the building. All of those unprepared for any and all introspection should proceed with caution.

This is the third Christmas since my cousin Lisa died. It had been less than one month since her 19th birthday when she rolled her car in early December and had to be sawed out of the vehicle. The firemen said she was never conscious from the moment that they arrived on the scene. When my mother called me she woke me from a dream. In the dream I was standing in a hallway crying, I had just learned that someone had died. When I arrived at the hospital I saw the same hallway and I couldn't walk. I just dropped to my knees. Please God, I prayed, please don't let her be scared. Please Lisa, don't stay here, don't be sad. We'll be okay. Please God, welcome her home, because none of us are there to guide her. I hate crying. I especially hate crying in front of other people. I sat in that waiting room and I cried for days straight without making a sound. She never woke up. They told us she was brain dead and I listened to Lisa's mother scream, "I had to watch her be born and now I have to watch her die". I saw my Aunt look at her son and hug him. I knew she was thinking, thank God not you. On the other side of my room my mother held Cha Cha, Lisa's mother. She held her and rocked her. My mother lost a daughter too once and I wondered if holding Cha Cha made my mom lose Meredith all over again.

We took turns saying goodbye to Lisa, and when it was my turn I held her hand. I was crying so much that what I remember the most vividly is the sight of my tears splashing on her skin, darkening the sheets. I buried my face in her hair and breathed in for the last time the smell that was Lisa and I whispered in her ear, "I love you baby girl. You were my little sister, there is no one else like you on this planet and there never will be again. I will miss you every day of my life until I see you again. Please don't forget me. Wait for me." When I lifted my face her skin was slick from my tears and I felt so bad. I had messed up her hair and my tears kept falling. I tried to clean her up but I just made it worse. My aunt said goodbye next. Her and my mother were Lisa's godmothers.

In that room I prayed for Lisa to find peace, to leave this world without pain. Her back was broken, her brain was dead, but is the soul still tied to the body until the last breath? I don't know.

At home I screamed. I kicked walls. I left dinner burning on the stove and when my boyfriend complained I told him to shut up, if I made any response at all. I remember distinctly him holding me down one night while I screamed and cried saying that I wanted God to explain this. To justify this. I wanted him to come down, look me in the face and give one damn reason for this. I had no siblings growing up. She was my sister. She knew my worst secrets. She stole my clothes, my toys, my makeup. She embarressed me in front of company and all my friends. She never skipped a beat, never let me live anything down, and never stopped holding my hand. I look at sisters in their forties and I know I will never have that now. She was mine. Her kids were supposed to play with my kids. She was the flower girl at my mothers wedding and she was supposed to be MY bridesmaid one day. We were supposed to fight one day over whose kids were prettier, smarter, who had the better husband, the better house. We were supposed to grow old together. Three years ago her mother was not supposed to return all her christmas gifts because she was dead. They were there, already wrapped under the tree, and we buried her. Just like that.

Over the phone my best friend said it was Gods will and I asked her not to serve me up platitudes and expect me to be grateful. She said that no matter what I should be happy, Lisa was in a better place and that's how God wanted it. I remember I lost my temper, I lost my tact, and I lost some of my heart when I told her that the day she buried her sister was the day that I'd like to continue this conversation. I was really curious how thankful to God she would be then. It was a mean thing to say and I regret it. I remember thinking that she had no idea what this felt like and people who hadn't lost someone should really not talk to me. I lost God too.

Just like that. I told God to fuck off. Told him there would be no more capitalizations of his name, no more prayers for me. In my farewell speech I said that I acknowledged his presence but as far as I was concerned we were no longer speaking. I didn't talk to him for over a year.

And then one day I found God. Just like that, I turned around and he was there. He took away my pain, he gave me back joy and I wept because it felt so good to be alive again. Lisa, little sister, I still miss you but now I know the short time I had you was a gift from God. Without you there would have been no sister growing up. Without you I would have no idea of the rivalry that goes on. I still have a hard time ever November and December. Christmas seems to have lost it's luster, but hey I don't kick walls anymore. That's a good thing.

This morning I get a call from my best friend. She calls on a quest for spirituality, faith. Today is not a good day and she is running low on supply. She tells me she is sorry for what she said all those years ago. Today she too wants answers from God. Today she too feels that no answer will ever be good enough. Today she hears platitudes from people and she wants to smack them in the face because that's how ineffectual they are. Someone told her, "God loves all creatures great and small". I laugh. What does that mean? It doesn't mean shit in the end. It's something people offer up because they can't relate, because they feel that if they were in your shoes they would handle it better. Bull shit. Piece of advice, when someone is on thier knees before you crying, get down on your knees too, cry too. Hold them until you feel their pain. If just for a moment make them feel like they're not the only ones hurting this bad. Make them feel like the weight of the world isn't on their shoulders. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself, is this something I would want to hear? Nine times out of ten the answers going to be no. Learn to be silent.

She asks me what reason could God possibly answer. I answer truthfully, but carefully. Sometimes it takes years before we see the reasons. Sometimes we just need to process emotions. CS Lewis (I heart him) said that his faith was like a house of cards being blown over when tragedy set. Each and every time the question was put to him, do I rebuild this house of cards? Each time he said yes. But he wondered, how strong is this house really? Would it withstand real tragedy? Would it withstand, for instance, his own diagnosis of cancer? Does he believe because God exists or does God exist because he believes? We put our faith in something that we will never be quite sure actually exists until we ourselves are gone. How much consolation is really taken from the fact that God hurts to heal? Sometimes none, sometimes the world. You see even CS Lewis questioned God. She wonders if faith isn't supposed to transcend that? Aren't we supposed to forgive, find the grace and joy immediately? I think it over. No. I don't think that's the challenge. Surely even God knows how hard things are sometimes. I think the challenge is in being able to rebuild the house of cards again. It's real nice to have a house that never falls, but the person that rebuilds and rebuilds, isn't that the person with the real faith? That's the person who got up off their knees again and again. That's the person who shook themselves like a wet dog and said, "I still love you, no matter what." What is faith if it is never tested?

As I write this I realize I never said a prayer for her. Which astonishes me, until I realize that on some core level I believe that there are some things you don't necessarily have to pray for. God just knows. I like that idea, that when we bow our heads to pray, God is bowing his head too. Praying too. Hoping that we can heal through the hurt, shake ourselves off, build this house of cards once again. You see, I used to pray alot for a good life, an easier life. When I turned around I found I already had everything I was looking for, the table was set, the guests invited, all I had to do was sit down.

When I kneel down next to you and you are cying, I will cry with you, hold you tight, and hope that you hear my invitation through our prayers. Come, sit down with me, there are more than enough chairs.