On Launch Day

I’ve wondered what to share on this day that “Grieving Room” officially launches into the world. Nothing felt quite right. Of course there is much to celebrate – and I do. But it is also a weird reality to celebrate a book that has a story I never wish had happened: the death of my sister.

As I thought about what to write, I found myself thinking back to eleven years ago and feeling a similar feeling for very different reasons. I was getting ready to go visit Roxanne in Newfoundland, and all of our siblings were going to meet at her place for a brother/sister weekend. Roxanne’s cancer was rapidly progressing, and while she was going to try one more “last ditch” treatment, the odds of it making any difference were very low. We were gathering to be together with our sister while she was still well enough to enjoy it. We were all pushing it out of our minds, but the countdown to her last days was already on.

The days leading up to that trip felt heavy for me. I wasn’t sure what to pack, what to plan, what to prepare. Roxanne had made it clear she didn’t want the visit to be morbid, and we had agreed. We would focus on enjoying being together. Then it occurred to me – Roxanne’s birthday was just a few days after I would return home. I needed to get her a birthday present.

And, again, nothing felt right.

I remember walking up and down a street of gift shops in Hamilton, thinking: “What do you buy for a dying woman that you are all pretending for a few days is not dying?” I couldn’t get anything too sentimental. She’d made her feelings clear about that. And I didn’t want to get her anything to do with her being sick – no cozy slippers, soothing teas or snuggly blankets. I went from store to store to store and nothing made sense.

You know what I ended up getting her? A reusable mesh shopping bag. You read that right. My last gift to Roxanne was a reusable mesh shopping bag. Because it had nothing to do with her being sick. And it had nothing to do with saying goodbye. And it had nothing to do with pretty much anything. It was a just a bag that I thought she’d like – and she did. I still remember the relief on her face when she opened it and saw that it was a gift that required no emotional response from her.

I thought of that bag today when I didn’t know what to post. Sometimes nothing feels quite right. Sometimes you end up with a mesh shopping bag because there’s no gift that could possibly be the perfect “last gift” you give to your dying sister. You’ll always want another gift. You’ll always have more to say. You’ll never be able to wrap up all your love and fit it in a gift box.

So I decided to give up on the “right” post for the release of “Grieving Room.” I wanted to find the perfect post to honour Roxanne in the midst of all this book sharing, but I couldn’t find it. This post is the post version of a mesh shopping bag.

I’ll just say that I’m thankful I got to write this book, and thankful someone published it. I’m grateful for all the support I have received, and I’m hopeful that this book will make a difference to anyone grieving. And I wish that my first book could have been about just about any other story than learning to grieve Roxanne’s death. I wish she was still here. I wish my first book could have been one she got to cheer for instead of star in. I wish she could know that her life mattered and her legacy continued.

Mostly, I wish I could grab that mesh bag and go shopping with Roxanne one more time. We would have had so much fun picking out what to wear to the book launch…