I do not recognize myself as who I am now-someone who has outlived their sister. Now, to the room overflowing with mourners, and to myself, I no longer feel recognizable as Kiah’s little sister. Our modes of self-expression, and the maladaptive coping mechanisms we both inherited, were our visible signs of kinship. Our similarities were our laugh, our yell, our mannerisms, all hand me downs from our mother and grandmother. She was delicate, feminine, and graceful I, a culmination of all the uncouth, rough edges of our dna. Kiah and I had been a complimentary set throughout our lives. Standing by my sister’s casket, I face the stark reality of how different we had become. The changes in my body are subtle, even to me. I am not a full year into my medical transition. Their eyes look for a similarly feminine version of the woman lying in the casket: a short, light skinned afro-latine woman in her mid-twenties, with dark eyes and long hair. To everyone else, the question of who I am to Kiah is written on their faces. From the mourners who know me, I am offered firm hugs, and declarations of love and sadness. The condolences I receive come with a mix of recognition and confusion. The closing distance between myself and my mother’s house in Grand Rapids cemented a newly gleaned truth: hell was recognizable hell still had sunshine.Ī week later the February sky returns to its characteristic gray, dressing the world in the somber mood most appropriate for a funeral. How could the sun rise, the land smile, the breeze move, as if this was any other day? The sun shone yellow, almost joyful overtones. The natural movement of the world felt absurd. As the world inhaled the first hint of spring, my lungs collapsed inside of themselves, refusing to let the sunlight touch the freshly wounded parts of me. The earth seemed to smile, soaking in the long-missed sunshine. The following morning, clear blue sky lit my journey from Detroit to Grand Rapids, melting any remaining ice from the night before. Kiah Holliman’s car accident happened on the last icy day of February 2022.
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