06/11/2008
1-2 pm
Grieving
They're gone… the Professor and Polly, Eustace and Jill, Mum and Dad, Peter and Edmund, and Lucy. All of them, and so many more died that day, on the platform. I didn't believe the news until I saw the bodies. Oh! The bodies were so awful! I can't think about that now. No, that was a week ago; it's past. Now, I must continue on my own, seemingly forgotten in all this mess. My friend Megan has opened her home to me, the wonderful darling and her family. I'm not there much, though. All I can think about is what might've been. If there was anything I could've done… I most certainly would've.
I miss Mum and Dad. They were always supportive of me, even when I made the wrong choices. I wish they could be here, to hold me while I grieve for my sister and brothers. Mum would be making banana bread, I'm sure. It was her specialty, especially when I was downhearted. Dad would be reading the paper, trying to finish the crossword before the bread came out of the oven. I'd be helping Mum, like always. I actually made banana bread today, but I couldn't eat it. My stomach turned over at the thought of not being able to fight over the heel of the loaf with Lucy.
Lucy. I miss her, perhaps more than anyone else. I know I wasn't always good to her. She deserved better than I gave her. She was a little angel, really. I think it's the law of being an older sister that the younger ones bring out the worst in you. I know it was that way for me. If she was here… oh! We would be fighting, surely, but it wouldn't be long before we were outdoors making fun of the guys, each rooting for a different brother during their wrestling match. Her laugh would ring out over the fields, perhaps as far as the church. That laugh was so sweet, like a soothing melody. Oh, to hear her laugh again! Oh, to have Lucy back!
Edmund. I loved Edmund, always. He was such a liar, always adjusting his truth to the circumstances. The real problem, though, was not his attitude. It was our lack of respect for him. I saw it from the start, but why didn't I do anything about it? I could've reversed the situation, made him happy again, like before the war. He was so innocent, so young, so naive. He never got enough credit. I could've given him that! He could've been so much better, if not for me. Peter could've treated him better, too.
Peter. Peter was such an idiot, but so loveable! He tried, so hard… too hard, usually. If he were here, I know he'd be working. Whether in the house or at a job or out in the community, he'd be doing something. Only weather and illness seemed to have the power to deter his efforts. Then, of course, he did have his lazy spurts. Maybe this grief would weigh him down. It probably would; he'd be locked in his bedroom, crying, maybe. I heard him cry once. I never told him. It was when Dad first left. At least we'd have each other, if only Peter were here.
Eustace and Jill. What delightful little children they were! I'm not sure what came over Eustace, but in the last few years he was finally growing into a wise young gentleman, rather than the bully I always thought him to be at heart. And Jill, why, she just wouldn't stop growing. I'm sure she would've passed me up in height by the time she was fully grown. It's a shame they're gone. I shan't ever have another cousin quite like Eustace; nor shall I ever find a pleasanter Girl Guide than Jill.
The Professor and Polly… I really can't speak about them. I only knew them on a professional level, but it is a little strange and sickening to think that everybody who believed in Narnia died together, in one accident. Did Mum and Dad believe? Did they even know? I can't say on that subject either. Perhaps there is something bigger than a coincidence here. Maybe there is something to those games we used to play…