12 March 2011. The day that split my life in half. The day that changed me forever. Three years feels like forever, but at the same time I can remember every detail like it was yesterday – right down to worrying the paramedic would accidently step on my bare toes as he came into the bus, or telling Gabrielle “of course the baby will be breathing now!” and feeling another flicker of fear as we headed towards the hospital.
There aren’t words to describe the pain of losing a sister. A baby sister, only thirteen hours old. It was like living in a nightmare of pain and fear and waking up every morning only to realize you’re still trapped in your dream. And having to stitch your own wounds because nobody notices you’re injured too. There was no one to lean on, because everyone had fallen. For months, we all lived in a haze, going through the motions of living without any enthusiasm. Then there was an advertisement for the Goomeri Pumpkin Festival in the window of a gas station, asking for more performers. And we had a focus.
Picking up the pieces has been a slow process. Our whole world shattered into hundreds, maybe thousands of pieces, and all those pieces just don’t fit together the way they used to.
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