Stay Stay Stay

Tonight, almost 4 AM as usual, I was writing Robin's "story" for what will be The Team Robbie Foundation's website. Whenever I write about Robin as an auntie, I always write with passion and pride. As her first niece who got to share 21 and a half years of her life with her, I truly believe that I know what being an auntie meant to her. The responsibility meant EVERYTHING and she took such pride in it. I am extremely proud to be her niece. As I was writing, I started to look back on her final moments here with us. I remember that in her final moments when she was finally accepting the light and the angels, there were a few things holding her back. There were a few things left that we had to reassure her would be okay. One of those things was me. Robin took care of me and I know she felt guilty for leaving me. There was never a lack of care from my parents, grandparents or anyone else in my family for that matter. I was the favorite as a child, I'm not afraid to admit it. (I was effing adorable.) But Robin and I always had this bond where I knew she would have done anything to protect me. She took her responsibility as my aunt seriously and she knew how much I depended on her. In her final moments I had to tell her I would be okay without her and that it was okay for her to leave me. I had to say those things even though it tore my heart into a million trillion little pieces. I am not okay without her and I don't know if I ever will be. I will live my life and I will take care of myself and I'll be fine, but I'll never be the same. I will always wish she were still here to take care of me. I'll be missing her company and her protection and her advice every single day of my life. I'm at peace with where Robin has gone and I know she's here even when I can't feel her but I don't know how I'm supposed to live the whole rest of my life without her voice or her laugh or our awkward side hugs or even her scolding voice telling me I shouldn't have done something. I sit here and try to imagine things like my wedding or the birth of my future children and I honestly can't imagine those things anymore now that she's gone. How can I have that without her and why should I have it if she can't? This grieving process is like running into a brick wall over and over. I am grieving the loss of the one person who could make this grief okay. She should be here in her bed laying next to me right now. She should've been sitting beside me at the funeral that never should have had to happen. She should be here for every single day of my life and even though I told her I'd be okay, I still have to live 80 years without her. That is not okay.