“It’s not about feeling better. It’s about getting better at feeling.”
– Dr. Gabor Maté
Just a little over twenty-four hours ago, as I said goodbye to my family in Costa Rica at the San José airport, I felt a shift in my body, releasing gentle sobs. My partner, his mother, his son, and I had just cleared airport security, concluding a whirlwind week in Costa Rica. This trip, filled with emotional highs and lows, began with the sudden and heartbreaking death of my eldest sister, Sandra, on Friday, the 24th.
She passed away just an hour after we arrived.
Last Friday, my brother-in-law, Toti, who has been married to my second oldest sister, Lorena, since before I was born, picked us up and informed me that Sandra was “delicada” (delicate). I had noticed her silence in our “Hermanas” WhatsApp group chat over the previous few days and had promised myself I’d check in on her as soon as we got to Costa Rica.
“Y puedo ir a ver a Sandra?” I asked. “Can I go see Sandra?”
“No, vieras es que está delicada, y nadie puede entrar a verla.” Toti responded tenderly, explaining that she was in medical isolation due to her condition.
A familiar sinking feeling settled in my stomach. By now, I’ve experienced enough loss to recognize that sensation, the one that tells me something is profoundly wrong even before I have all the evidence.
My body knows when I’m about to lose someone before I do, and over time, I’ve learned to understand this intuitive language. When she warns me of an approaching loss, I cocoon myself in the reminder that there’s nothing I can’t face. So when Lorena called me within the hour to notify me of Sandra’s passing, I knew I was safe to feel the shattering blow.
A younger version of me would have been terrified to cry in front of strangers, especially in the middle of a coffee shop, where I was when I received the news. I would have fought the tears and tried to hold them back. Instead, I let my chest heave with sobs and let the tears flow freely. I allowed myself to feel the unfairness of losing my sister at 66 when many of our elders have lived well into their 80s. I cried for her husband, who has been with her since they were teens. They were supposed to grow old together—y ahora qué? And I cried for my mother, who, at 85, shouldn’t have to say goodbye to her child.
Grief reminds us of all the “shoulds” and “supposed tos” that are shattered by the reality that we can’t control outcomes.
In Costa Rica, funeral services and mass are held within 24 hours of a person’s passing. So I paused my trip with my partner’s family to attend my sister’s services. One of the most moving moments was when my niece, Alexa, Sandra’s youngest, shared beautiful remarks in remembrance of her mother. She spoke of her mom being reunited with loved ones who had long departed and said she knew her mom was dancing to Cuban music in a heavenly space with my dad.
Though we had different fathers, my dad entered my Costa Rican sisters’ lives shortly after my mom came to the United States. He always helped my mom support her children left in Costa Rica. Papi was loved, especially for his generous heart and of course, love of dancing. So to hear his name called upon at my sister’s funeral moved me SO much.
For the rest of the week, I traveled with my partner’s family, introducing them to my family’s culture and letting them see me. There were times I needed breaks, times I needed to cry, times I needed to ground myself in the sand or sit in the rain. Two things can be true at once: I could travel to a country that holds so many precious memories for me and share it with others, while also feeling the familiar sensation of grief in my body.
I feel it daily—for my father, Ian, my little bean lost in January, and now, Sandra.
Sobriety allows me to move through all the feelings, even conflicting ones, without self-judgment.
There is no right way to grieve.
Reflect: In moments like these, how do you navigate grief and the rest of everyday life? Feel free to email me at jessica@bottomlesstosober.com and share your thoughts and experiences.
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