Today, I Choose Joy!

Today marks another year since my sister died.

This month has been hard. There have been moments when the grief felt heavier than I wanted to carry, and if I’m being honest, there were times when I listened to the enemy and allowed that grief to overtake me.

But today, on the day of her death, I’m choosing something different.

When I think about today, my mind goes back to that moment.

I remember that day.

It started like any other day. I was working as a nanny at the time, and I went into work like I normally did. I got the baby down for a nap, looked at the time, and realized my sister should have already arrived.

She would often come visit me while I worked and play with the children we had both previously babysat and nannied together. We had always been inseparable.

Until that day.

I started calling around, trying to figure out where she was. One of her friends told me there had been an accident, but from what they knew, everyone was okay and had been taken to a hospital.

So, what do you do when you don't know?

You start looking for answers.

I called for backup, and we started calling different hospitals. When none of those calls gave us an answer, I had someone come relieve me so we could start driving to the hospitals ourselves.

My ex at the time was driving. We stopped at the hospital closest to us, but once again, there were no answers.

As we were walking back toward the car, my dad called.

I knew something was wrong when he asked to speak to my ex first.

My dad said something to him that I couldn’t hear, and it felt like an eternity before he handed me the phone. Looking back, I know it was the adrenaline coursing through me. I could feel my heart pounding in my head, almost as if my body already knew what was coming before I did. Then my ex handed me the phone.

And the words my dad said to me in that moment would forever be frozen in my mind.

“She’s dead.”

“She’s gone.”

It’s strange how my mind was still struggling to completely process what was happening, while the body is already reacting to it.

we were standing near our vehicle in the emergency room parking lot when I collapsed to the ground. I screamed at the top of my lungs. At some point, I was curled up in a fetal position, repeating, “No. No. No,” before the screams came again.

The pain was so loud that a security guard and someone who worked at the hospital came outside with a wheelchair.

My ex was doing everything he could to get me off the ground and into the car. I remember him telling them, “No, no, she’s okay. She just found out her sister is dead,” as he waved them away and struggled to help me into the vehicle.

And then I remember something else.

I don’t remember exactly what my ex was saying to me in that moment, but suddenly, I became completely calm.

It was as if every part of my brain and my body just shut down.

From that point on, it felt like my body was running on autopilot.

I would go through the motions, but somewhere inside of me, everything had changed.

And then there were the moments when something would trigger a memory and take me right back there.

It could be something as simple as a smell.

A sound.

A place.

A moment.

And suddenly, I wasn’t there anymore.

I was back in that parking lot.

Back on the ground.

Back in the moment when the words “she’s dead” became something I could never unhear.

There are moments in life that divide everything into a before and an after.

That was one of them.

I imagine that moment probably haunts him too. But it haunts me in a different way. I can still remember the feeling of hearing those words and realizing that my sister was never coming back.

For a long time, this day has been something I associated with grief, anger, and everything I lost.

But today, I’m choosing joy.

Not because I don’t miss her. Not because it doesn’t hurt. But because losing her taught me how precious this life really is.

I want to cherish my Husband, my children, my family, my new job, my new church and the people God has placed in my life. I want to cherish even the ordinary moments that I know are actually some of the greatest gifts.

I don’t want grief to have the final say.

So today, I’m thanking God for what I still have. For where He has brought me. For the people He has placed in my life. And for the new things He is doing in me.

I will always miss my sister.

But today, on the anniversary of the day I lost her, I choose to live. I choose gratitude. I choose love. And I choose joy.

with a broken but grateful heart,

-Megan