Today is Thursday April 14, 2016.
I didn't think I would be awake today, but to be fair I also didn't think I would fall asleep last night either. It wasn't easy, so I won't pat myself too hard on the back, but I will say today feels miraculous. I woke up this morning to an empty bed that felt too big for me to be in alone, like it was drowning every ounce of me. The room I slept in was quiet. Still. Missing a lot of things that once made it happy, bright and alive. The room that is mine is cluttered with all the scraps of paper I used to think were so inspiring, but now just seem a little too kiddish to be covering my walls. They're both so different. It hurts too much to think about yesterday, but I know I have to. I have to face it. I have to write so someday someone will know that there is someone who understands them, someone who feels close to how they feel. So they are not alone, as I feel so right now. But it's okay. I know it's okay to feel this way sometimes, but it helps when you can read a few words that make you hang on just a little longer before you crash. I think writing doesn't erase the fall but helps soften the landing, even just a little.
Let me begin with two nights ago, the night my dear twin Rachel was set apart as a missionary for the church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints. After we spent the day eating J-Dawgs as a family (Bridger and Cami included) we adventured up to the very spot Rachel received her first kiss, Stewart Falls, hiking through slushy snow and muddy terrain. The air was slightly cool, dusk approaching us but it didn't matter. I could've stayed on that hike forever if it meant more time with my dear Rachey. I remember so much laughter and joy and conversation it could've paved the path we walked on far longer than it stretched. We hiked single file but we hiked close together like a family should. I laughed as Rach kept telling me to quit stepping on the back of her shoes and Bridger for me to stop kicking snow down his socks and I'm sure everyone else could find something wrong I was doing (as that really is my field of expertise) but it was hilarious. Rachel. Cami. Drewbe. Bridger. Alia. Sarah. Jessica. Dad. Me. I could've been there forever.
The top of the falls was lovely and I tried to picture little Rachie stopping here, scared and as innocent as she'll always be, stopping for a kiss and coming home to tell me a couple nights later. It was sweet. I reveled in the moment of sliding down the rocks, climbing up its spine and talking to my family as the earthly horizon was unfolded before my eyes like a withered map. It didn't ask for anything but was appreciated just the same. So beautiful. So quiet. I watched a little bird scurry its way up the gushing waterfall unsure of what it was doing, but thankful it was in this blissful moment just the same. We talked. We laughed. We even were challenged to a "Survivor Reward Challenge" by Dale and were surprised when Drew, Bridger, Dad and I were the only ones to try it (the latter was the only to scurry from the water like a scared little girl). I think I surprised the boys, but I wasn't about to let them win without a fight. In the end we called it a draw as our feet merely got numb after a biting coldness and then felt actually pretty good against the flowing water. The hike back was interesting as it was only Drew, Bridge and I but it was just as lovely laughing and talking as if this wasn't the last time we'd be together for a while.
We journeyed home and after a car ride of Cami, Bridger, Rachel and I listening to our music and talking all together for the last time--she had to say goodbye to both of them. Bridger lost a spark when she hugged him in the Smith's parking lot for the last time and I could tell he was more sad than he would probably admit. It broke my heart a little. Then Cami said goodbye at her house and broke it even more (she came over later for her last goodbye but it still hurt every time). After heading home for perhaps the last time with Ray driving next to me, music playing, the same old houses going by and me crying my stupid eyes out until it hurt my heart began to split. We ate tacos for dinner and before I knew it Stake President Richards was over and she was a missionary. Our family thought it would be a good idea to our birthday tradition of going around one by one saying what we love most about the birthday person, in this case Rach and I (as they missed it because of Justin and Jessica's wedding). I thought there was no better time than tonight. Everyone took a turn, talking of me first, even my grandparents and quickly I started to feel my heart swell and swell until it flowed over quite a bit, spilling tears all over Rachel's puffy sweater I was wearing. It was good I did for it was a perfect sweater to wipe gallon-sized tears on. They all said things I felt were not true, too good, too nice and honest, but my mother told me I think too little of myself. I think she's right. I remember my grandmother called me a sparkle, so beautiful and so many of my family members talked about my eyes, my father about how loving they are and my huge heart. Justin penetrated my dear heart so deeply when he called me the little sister he always wanted and comforted me when he saw me sobbing the rest of the night. (Levi was such a dear too.) They really are too kind. I don't always feel like a good person and hearing all these things made me feel uncomfortable for how undeserving I am, but loved. Very loved. Suddenly they were talking about Rachey and how joyous she is, a light, a radiant spirit who's love touches everyone she meets. She could walk in a room and you'd feel her light no matter what, it's that strong. Then it was my turn to talk. I'd already been crying all night, but this--this was a whole different level of crying.
This was weeping.
As I looked into her dear eyes and felt the pangs of sorrow and joy overtake me, I was left speechless for a moment soaking in the perfect words I knew did not exist to describe my love and view of my dear sister. My words were no where near what I had planned or hoped to say, but I know they were filled with love starting from the beginning of our life as twins and best friends and ending with a truth of missing her, but loving her decision to the right thing more. She really is the bravest girl I know. I look up to her more than she knows and she makes me a better person than I've never been or would never have been without her in my life and I'm so thankful she is my sister. There is no one I would rather have as my twin than Rachel. Of that I am more certain than anything else in my life.
We spent the rest of the night as a family, eating Tillamook ice cream, talking, laughing and sometimes crying. Cami came over and said her last goodbyes while Drew and I talked by the piano and he helped me realize a lot of things about myself that I needed to uncover. Now there is no where to hide from the person that is staring at me in the mirror, and even though I'm afraid, I'm excited. I'm sad. I'm alone. I'm learning how to grow by myself. Thanks for helping me big brother.
The night went quickly as I stayed up late talking to Drew and Rachel to my parents, but after a swallow of a sleeping pill for her and a dose of strange reality for me, we fell asleep in her big "magic carpet" bed and it wasn't strange how little we talked or how we didn't hold hands. It was like every other night we spent together. Natural. Happy. Dark. Everything was packed up tight and with the next morning coming early (by Benson time, that is) I tried hard not to think about how hard it was going to be when I woke up. It was hard enough falling asleep next to the one person I don't want to wake up to gone, but Heavenly Father is always kind to me. He helped us both sleep through the night peacefully. We woke up the next morning and it was an overcast day. I prayed for rain that morning, knowing if it was going to be a difficult and long day, at least a little rain could help it be a little better and I'll tell you I wasn't disappointed. I wrote a small, but encouraging letter for Rachel's first day at the MTC, slipping my favorite photo of us in the whole world (I didn't want her to know about it until she needed it so it made it into her day bag secretly in the car later).We prayed for the last time as a family in the family room, Rachel received a blessing and together Ray and I rode in the car, just us two, until we dropped Alia's car at the shop and met at IHOP for breakfast. I didn't cry yet. I was trying to be strong, but I was also conflicted with so many emotions. I could tell Rachel was being strong, but she was scared too. She was anticipating and dreading saying goodbye. I could tell she wanted to be at the MTC so she wouldn't have to worry about saying goodbye anymore, so it would no longer be harder being here. I played her favorite hymns and her beloved EFY medley "Anxiously Engaged" while we were in the car and I decided I was going to lose it soon after breakfast as I was really a ticking bomb of emotion. I tried to stay strong all day, all week, all month really--sometimes losing it, but staying strong is hard when your sister is a master at it and you, sadly, are not. The food was good, my grandparent's stories about how they met and their sweet wisdom to Rachel and us all was greatly needed (even if grandma Pat admitted she was once a lingerie model...haha). Suddenly things began to become real. We stopped outside for a picture on the red bench, as we always do, and then we drove to the Prove temple and the second I saw the MTC, I'll admit, I lost it. I was gone.
The rain was falling, the air was cool and warm and I couldn't help but compare it to my heart that felt so cold and sad and completely broken while my tears slipped warm and hot down my cheeks. We started taking pictures with the temple behind us, Rachel's new home in front of us and the rain encasing all of us. It wasn't too formidable or hard, the rain that is, it was enough to make me realize my Heavenly Father isn't just watching over me. He's watching over all of us, Rachel, my parents, my siblings, my grandparents--all of us. I tried to keep my tears in for Rachey as we held each other in our last picture together for 18 months, and I tried to be strong as I held her hand lightly (as I know she isn't a touchy person) in the car as we drove to the MTC gate and even though I wept I told her, "You got this Ray. I know you do." Wow. I never knew my heart could feel so physically pained as it did when the gate went up and we went in and suddenly she was out of the car and I was staring at her wondering how anyone could be so beautiful and so close to perfect as my dear sister Rachel Benson. Amazingly enough, Josh our dear friend came running out of no where and met us all with a cordial handshake looking happier then I'd ever seen him in my life. I was elated. Then we squished for a picture and a flip in my stomach told me it was time. "It's time." It whispered sternly. "It's time to let go." My hand touched hers on her suit case one last time and the last thing I remember was her wave goodbye at her family and the back of her head walking into a new world, a new step in life that will change both of our once so intricately close together paths forever. Letting go of her hand was one of the hardest and easiest things I've ever done. I say hard for obvious reasons, but I say easy because I knew it was exactly what Ray needed and so no matter how much I hated it, it was easy to give her the last thing I could that would be physically helpful to her. No more hugs. No more squishing together in a bed. Just letting go of her hand. That was it.
I felt sorry for my family after that mainly because the tears that came from me after that drive away from my twin were immediately long, hard and unceasing. It was like my heart was being punched again, hard and slow and personally. I really couldn't help it. I had tried to be strong and dignified all day, but I just couldn't anymore. I at least kept my tears audibly quiet, but they were loud in many other ways. Ways only a twin, a sister, a best friend, a human, perhaps, just like me would understand. My misery was written on my face, my hands running tightly through my hair, my posture, but it was deeply riddled within my tears going beyond just goodbye drips of salt water. These tears held the sorrow of so many emotions, memories and worries of my life. If you could read the letters written on my tears you still wouldn't understand what they mean, where they came from and why they were falling out of my heart now. It was exhausting. I curled up against the window until I reached my sisters house, the whole ride filled with small pats on the shoulder and slight squeezes of the hand. I really do have the most amazing family. How they love me so and I how I adore and love them beyond words.
The last thing I did after Rachel left that was truly painful was curl up on a big brown couch with my headphones singing two songs softly and painfully inside of me as I cried the last uncontrollable tears from that goodbye: "Photograph" by: Ed Sheeran and "Kusanagi" by: Odesza . I would add a third, but I don't remember if I played it or if it was too painful, as the other two made tears leak from me harder than any other song in my young life ("Clair de Lune" by: Claude Debussy).
The rest of the day was fine (which could have a million definitions if you ask me) namely: getting Roxberry smoothies (always mango mango), driving in the rain with Drewbe, getting lost taking a "quick shortcut" on the back roads, being late to the movies, watching my new favorite movie "Zootopia" for the first time with Drew, Jessica and Justin, only hearing three other strangers in the theater laughing, and then going home to Survivor as usual and warm baked potatoes (which I ate even though I was unbelievably full). It was so weird. I kept feeling like I would see Rachel walk in the door soon or that she was just on her way home from work or something. I remember going up in her room, after I thought I was done crying and being sad for the day, only to walk into her dark room and crumble on the floor sobbing like a little baby. I couldn't stand it. The lamps came on then off again. I wanted to run my sad fingers over everything but a part of me didn't want to touch or ruin a single thing. I wanted to leave it as it was, but I wanted to have closure with it too. I was very conflicted. I ended up leaving her room for a couple hours to decompose my own room, which hadn't really been changed drastically in three or so years. I turned on calm and happy music, careful not to play too nostalgic of songs to set me off again and I peeled nearly everything off the walls and cleaned under my scary bed. I felt closure with many things, even if it wasn't saying goodbye to Rachel, it helped. My mom came in with baby Clair and talked about my happy room, my happy music and asked if I wanted to talk. "Not really...but I want to get it out." I talked with her for a long time about my life, about where it is going and how utterly clueless and mind-numbingly confused I feel about everything. I talked about my friends, my fear of not being enough to want them to stay. My whole life it's been me and Ray and most of our friends (not all) have been shared and I've always felt the better half has always been Rachel. Shes' the glue. She's the one they want to stay with and I'm the one who balances out the relationship. She is the glue. I am the weight. I am not bad and I'm not trying to degrade my role, but she has always been better, happy and kind. Always. I know that. I'm seriously not doubting my worth, I'm just saying that she is the best human you'll ever be lucky enough to meet. That's all. So I cried about friends, fears, my future. I cried about crying and being selfish enough to worry about me when I should be worrying about Rachel--she is the one that has to leave her family, not me. She is the brave one. I cried too much it hurt. My mom cried too. She talked and it felt good to listen and understand that she has as many feelings and sorrows as I do, even if they're similar but not the same, it helps. After we both talked and cried and laughed, my mom looked at me and told me what I needed to hear. Which was a lot of things, but I know what I heard from it all. "Hope. Kiersten, you need hope."
So. I slept alone last night and literally cried myself to sleep. I didn't want to get out of bed or go to school or even think about working tomorrow. But you know what? I felt something good today.
It's overcast today and it's rained a couple of times again since I ate my Honey-Nut Cherrios on the back porch and our tire went flat on my way to school and I was late to my class and I skipped one of them entirely while I sit here typing this instead, feeling it is infinitely more important. It's been raining and to be honest I don't know whether it is discouraging, being reminded of such a freshly painful day or if it comforting knowing someone, the most powerful and loving being in the world is watching over my sister and I.
I think I know which answer means more to me. Today I woke up and I was filled with something soft and warm and wonderful. Hope. Today I am filled with hope. Rain falls. Buds of green are bursting from trees and flowers are popping and birds are singing their songs and I am stopped at a realization as the Cheerios grow soggy in my milk. It is Spring now. Long Winter is over and life is returning to the world. Even yesterday someone in my family said to me as I told them I prayed for rain (probably my mother), "What does rain represent?" I was baffled. It means whatever people make of it, I thought. But she smiled and said, "Rain represents renewal. It is a new day. A fresh start. A beginning." She's right you know.
The rain brings life. I know from my bones to my books, from everything that I am created to be by my Father in Heaven that I am going to be more than okay on this difficult but exciting journey ahead of me. It is about time life started happening to me, rather than me running carefully in the dark hoping I don't break something. It's time I start living and I'm so happy Ray, my dearest and closest best friend can do just the same. I'm so thankful. So, so thankful for life, love, family and the rain.
Post Script: You may also be wondering about the title of this post: A few weeks ago my ring turned dark purple, blue, violet and bronze from the sulfur in the hot pots just before Josh left on his mission. I was pretty devastated at first. This sun ring means so much to me as it is my ring from Canon Beach in Oregon. Right when I got it I promised myself that it was my "hope ring", it was representing my promise to come back to Oregon and to to what is right for me in my life. The sun represents two special and most important people in my life: My Savior Jesus Christ and my twin Rachel. So when it was ruined my heart was broken. Moments after Bridger took my ring, looking at closely and said, "It's kind of cool. It will always remind you of this day." It actually made me feel a little better after he said that. I decided to be happy about it and I wasn't going to try and fix it. I kept wearing it even though it wasn't quite as pretty, but I thought about what Bridge had said. It made me smile whenever I looked at it. So a couple days went by and not much had changed but around the third day I noticed something was different. It was shining a little bit. I was elated! My ring was started to turn silver again without me even doing anything to it! At first, if you can believe it, I was a little sad. What Bridger said really meant something to me. I would never forget that day in the hot pots, the last real hoorah we had together as best friends and this "tainted" ring was somehow a reminder of all the change they had caused within my heart and all the wonderful and almost inexplicably perfect times we had together. I didn't want to lose the silver at first, then I didn't want to lose the purple either, but then I realized something as it is almost completely back to silver now. This ring really has been the perpetuation of hope for me--it's been there for years reminding me of a dream I know I have to follow, but now it is a symbol of all the hope I need in my life. For friends. For love. For myself. For my family. There is so much to see has hopeful in this world and I know it may not make sense but I know this ring, this symbol, this promise has helped me realize that. So, I named this post after it, even if it doesn't sound amazing, it means so much. That is what I have inside me now--no longer despair only, but hope.
True hope in life and in myself.
-Kiersten Pauline Benson
"You" by: The 1975 (edited) >> For you, Rachey. I love you so much. Thanks for being my hope my whole life. I know now you always will be. Always.
