My sister and I visited Hocking Hills State Park from April 28-29, 2012, and took a moment at this rock. This was Lawrence's and Thomas's favorite place in Hocking Hills, where we took them hiking at all ages together. Photo by Melissa F. Kaelin.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
The anniversary, the celebration and the end of April
Nearly two months has passed since I last posted in my blog. Those two months have been more difficult than I could ever imagine, as they were filled with reminders and experiences that brought me back to last April, when I lost four people so dear to me.
The Anniversary
More like two anniversaries. Because my family members died on Easter Sunday of 2011, when Easter 2012 rolled around on April 8, I was already mourning deeply — a sense of grief renewed. Everyone in the family was grieving, each in our own way, and a memorial service was given for the Bunsey family on April 8, 2012, at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church.
Matt traveled to Ohio with me for the service, and together we lit candles in memory of my family in a devotional section of the church. One for Paula (Arbogast) Bunsey, my mother; one for Tom Bunsey, my stepfather; one for Thomas Ross Bunsey, the oldest of the twins; and one for Lawrence Dana Bunsey, the youngest by two minutes.
Easter in 2011, however, fell on April 24 — so late in the year that I can scarcely remember another time the holiday came so close to May. For those of us touched by the accident, that meant making time for the anniversary of the accident early in the month on April 8, 2012, and again on April 24, 2012. This time of sharp memories and grief spanned almost an entire month, a period of time which I worried would render me completely dysfunctional, though somehow I managed to pull through.
The Celebration
Having lost so much life and feeling so empty after so much had been taken from us, my sister and I longed for the chance to find peace. If only for a moment.
We longed to be together, to support each other, and to remember our twin brothers, our mother and even our grumbling stepfather for the people they were during their time on earth. So full of confidence. So full of love. So full of life.
So when I returned to Ohio to reunite with my college comrades during the last weekend of April, my sister and I stole a night to ourselves and retreated to the place where we had some of our first and some of our last adventures with our family.
Hocking Hills State Park. If you've never been to this gem in Ohio, it is absolutely stunning, with a different attraction for every nature-lover on your list.
For us, Hocking Hills was and still is a family tradition. We've traveled there with many of our friends and family, in varying groups, at varying times. But most often, my sister and I traveled to Hocking Hills with the twins. We would grab the twins by the hands as toddlers and pack them into a Jeep with their blankies and the family dog, then we would hop into the driver's and passenger's seats and make the trek to our favorite Ohio State Park. Once there, we scaled down the cliffs of Old Man's Cave and hiked the trail to Cedar Falls, snacking on fruit along the way and cheerfully chatting with the boys about everything touched by their imagination.
On the evening of April 28, 2012, my sister and I made that same journey, though this time our youthful foursome was turned to two. Still, we hiked the same old trail and found a restful Hocking Hills cabin where we could rest our heads later that night. Throughout our evening together, we shared memories, hopes and fears — as well as our love for each other. And we tried, as best we could, to celebrate the lives of our 13-year-old brothers and our parents.
We ended the night with a toast to our loved ones followed by ice cream cake — a tradition we used to share with our family when we celebrated the milestones of our lives together.
We chose an ice cream cake with soccer balls on the edge, and asked the cashier to write "Celebrating their Life" on the top. It came out as "Celebrating the Life," but it worked just as well or better, as we wanted to celebrate the life that we as a family shared and the life that our loved ones lived so fully.
The End of April
May 1. Never have I concentrated so hard on making it to one particular day, and putting one entire month behind me.
The month of April, for me, was full of personal challenges. Feeling so close to my grief once again made me realize just how far I have to go in order to heal. My life has changed by volumes since the accident, and though I still try to stand tall during the day when I am working or socializing, I often feel crushed when I get home at night.
Through all the time that has passed since my last post, there is only one thing that has become clear to me: How fortunate I was to have such wonderful people in my life. I suspect the notion of "How lucky I truly am to have had them for so long" is a realization — moreover a feeling — that can only come with time.
The Anniversary
More like two anniversaries. Because my family members died on Easter Sunday of 2011, when Easter 2012 rolled around on April 8, I was already mourning deeply — a sense of grief renewed. Everyone in the family was grieving, each in our own way, and a memorial service was given for the Bunsey family on April 8, 2012, at Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church.
Matt traveled to Ohio with me for the service, and together we lit candles in memory of my family in a devotional section of the church. One for Paula (Arbogast) Bunsey, my mother; one for Tom Bunsey, my stepfather; one for Thomas Ross Bunsey, the oldest of the twins; and one for Lawrence Dana Bunsey, the youngest by two minutes.
Easter in 2011, however, fell on April 24 — so late in the year that I can scarcely remember another time the holiday came so close to May. For those of us touched by the accident, that meant making time for the anniversary of the accident early in the month on April 8, 2012, and again on April 24, 2012. This time of sharp memories and grief spanned almost an entire month, a period of time which I worried would render me completely dysfunctional, though somehow I managed to pull through.
The Celebration
Having lost so much life and feeling so empty after so much had been taken from us, my sister and I longed for the chance to find peace. If only for a moment.
We longed to be together, to support each other, and to remember our twin brothers, our mother and even our grumbling stepfather for the people they were during their time on earth. So full of confidence. So full of love. So full of life.
So when I returned to Ohio to reunite with my college comrades during the last weekend of April, my sister and I stole a night to ourselves and retreated to the place where we had some of our first and some of our last adventures with our family.
Hocking Hills State Park. If you've never been to this gem in Ohio, it is absolutely stunning, with a different attraction for every nature-lover on your list.
For us, Hocking Hills was and still is a family tradition. We've traveled there with many of our friends and family, in varying groups, at varying times. But most often, my sister and I traveled to Hocking Hills with the twins. We would grab the twins by the hands as toddlers and pack them into a Jeep with their blankies and the family dog, then we would hop into the driver's and passenger's seats and make the trek to our favorite Ohio State Park. Once there, we scaled down the cliffs of Old Man's Cave and hiked the trail to Cedar Falls, snacking on fruit along the way and cheerfully chatting with the boys about everything touched by their imagination.
On the evening of April 28, 2012, my sister and I made that same journey, though this time our youthful foursome was turned to two. Still, we hiked the same old trail and found a restful Hocking Hills cabin where we could rest our heads later that night. Throughout our evening together, we shared memories, hopes and fears — as well as our love for each other. And we tried, as best we could, to celebrate the lives of our 13-year-old brothers and our parents.
We chose an ice cream cake with soccer balls on the edge, and asked the cashier to write "Celebrating their Life" on the top. It came out as "Celebrating the Life," but it worked just as well or better, as we wanted to celebrate the life that we as a family shared and the life that our loved ones lived so fully.
The End of April
May 1. Never have I concentrated so hard on making it to one particular day, and putting one entire month behind me.
The month of April, for me, was full of personal challenges. Feeling so close to my grief once again made me realize just how far I have to go in order to heal. My life has changed by volumes since the accident, and though I still try to stand tall during the day when I am working or socializing, I often feel crushed when I get home at night.
Through all the time that has passed since my last post, there is only one thing that has become clear to me: How fortunate I was to have such wonderful people in my life. I suspect the notion of "How lucky I truly am to have had them for so long" is a realization — moreover a feeling — that can only come with time.
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