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Alex from the Land of Stories smiles at me, reassuringly. Her face changes from hers to Alex’s, my brother’s. Why do they have to have the same name? The tree’s cracks and curves turn into agonized faces. They say my name. Anywhere I look, I am slowly dragged back to reality. When I am pulled through, it hits me like a bullet, the sound ringing in my ears. This is what loss must feel like. Sound like. A punch through the heart, hot lava burning the face, a pounding in the head. It feels as if you are punched through like a hole puncher through paper. The pieces ripped from you are still somewhere. They exist maybe in another universe, or even in the past, a second ago, before this has all happened. However, those holes can never grow back. You cannot tape them back to the paper. You can try, but one day or the other, the glossy tape gets in the way of the space you have on that paper, of the beautiful
and imperfect expanding artwork that is your soul. All you can do is do your best to cope, to patch up those holes with new memories and experiences, to bring new people into your life. You can’t try and distract yourself by throwing yourself back into another story, another piece of imagination. You have to deal with what is in front of you, no matter how painful it may be. There will always be tomorrow to doze off. Instead of making a story in your head to distract yourself from what is right in front of you, focus on expanding your piece of art. It works not by moving around the huge holes, or even the tiny scratches, but by building something new and wonderful above them, your memories as solid foundation. I miss my brother, but I am finally finding my voice and the ability to talk about him. That is what loss means to me. Not the feeling of it, but what can come after . . .
Dear Allison, Thank you for sharing your beautiful story with us. I am sorry to hear that you lost your big brother when you were five years old. I too have experienced a major loss. My sixteen-year-old daughter died nearly ten years ago from a rare heart disease called myocarditis. While the journey of loss is unique to everyone, my heart expanded with a resounding “YES!” when I read these words in your story: “Does loss always have to be a bad thing?” My response to that is a resounding “NO,” but many don’t see it that way. In my experience through the death of my precious daughter, I have learned that if we open our hearts, we will see the grace and beauty that has blessed us as a result of our loss. I also LOVED your use of metaphor to describe the feeling of loss and how you likened it to being “punched through like a hole puncher through paper,” and that while the holes “can never grow back,” one can “patch up those holes with new memories and experiences.” Wow. This is simply beautiful and powerful writing, Allison. GirlStoryMag.com • Yearbook 2021
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I am honored to have this opportunity to respond to your story, and I want to thank you for imparting your wisdom with us. You are gifted in many ways, and I encourage you to keep writing! Blessings, Beth Knopik, author, mother
