Dear Parvati,
Our parents died today.
And the pain is back. It's the same kind of pain that I felt over 30 years ago, when you died. It's a horrible biting pain that won't leave you alone.
The pain is the same, but this time it will be different. This time I know that it won't nearly kill me. I know that I'm strong enough to get through it. Your death was nearly unbearable. Our parent's death won't be easy, but I will be able to get through it.
I know that this time, the grief will leave me. The grief you gave me never quite left, but theirs will.
Their death is so different from yours. You didn't have time. It came so fast that I never got the chance to say goodbye to you. One moment you were there, and then the next you were gone. They knew it was coming, and they were ready. They said goodbye, first to the kids and to Liam, and they were left with me. They said goodbye to me and then…
And then one moment they were there, and the next they were gone.
Even though I had a chance to prepare this time, it came too fast for me truly be ready. They were here, and then they were gone, leaving me alone again.
I'm sitting in their house, the house of our childhood, trying to find a way to deal with the grief. There's no one here except me and a few lonely memories. This is where I discovered my love of reading, my love of magic, but most importantly, I found the love of family. This is the same house that you and I played as tiny children, almost a half-century ago. This is the house we decided that no matter what, we were always going to be together, since we were twins. This was the house that saw us make up our minds to join the D.A. in our seventh year.
This was the house that I first felt your death. Before that, I just felt shock. But when I entered the house, I thought that the pain would kill me.
And now, it's the house where I feel the grief of being the last person alive who has those memories.
In the thirty-so years since I moved out, they changed my room. It's just another clean room, looking like any other bedroom that might house guests for a few days. But there are things that a careful eye might see. Tucked in a corner, one might see that there's a slight dent where we argued and you threw a book into the wall. Behind the dresser, you can see the scorch marks where I accidently shot sparks into the wall when you got your first boyfriend. And carefully hidden, behind the headboard, someone might be able to see the place where me and you carved our names into it the day that our grandmother died.
But even if the carful eye did see any of the signs, how would they know where it came from, the memories that are involved in the slight blemishes? No one will ever know. It used to be our secret, the Patil secret, but now it's just my secret, and it's not the same.
Your room is where I'm writing this, since it's the only place that hasn't changed since I moved out. Everything is just were you left it, assuring me that I wasn't the only person to miss you.
But now I am. For the first time, I'm alone in missing you. Mom and Dad are no longer there anymore.
You died, and I was crushed, but the world called you a hero. At least for a little while. Two old, kind people who had loved and supported a hero dies, and I'm crushed, and the world doesn't notice.
Life's not fair is it?
But then again, if it was, I wouldn't be here, sitting in a lonely room, surrounded memories that are now just mine. I would be sitting in a downstairs in the dining room, flicking through old photos with you sitting across from me and laughing sadly.
But for the first time, I'm glad you're not here. You'll never have to feel the pain of losing a loved one. You might have missed out on so much joy, but you'll never have to see our parents die. In dying, you've been spared the pain that I have felt for so many years.
I'm feeling lost again. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. There are so many decisions that need to be made, and this time, everyone's looking at me to make them. But I don't know what to do. I can barely make a complete thought without my pain throbbing through my head and interrupting it.
After you died, I thought that I would never be ok again. And honesty, I never fully have been able to shake your grief off. This time, I feel like terrible, but I know that I'll be ok.
I just wish that I understood what made everyone leave me behind when they died.
With much love,
Padma