Gabe Easter

New Year’s Thanksgiving

This woman.
 
Life was the calm and she the storm.
 
Her favorite season. Her favorite holiday.
 
Thanksgiving was her New Year.  Thanksgiving was the day she reflected on the last year and told everyone how thankful she was to have made it to see another one.
 
She was thankful she could experience it.
 
She was thankful she survived it.
 
She was thankful.
 
...I'm just thankful I got to spend a few of them with her.
 
This Thanksgiving was a New Year of sorts for me. I haven’t been this productive since she passed away.  I can’t remember the last time I put time, energy, effort, and passion into something of my own creation since before things started going downhill.
 
I sat up that morning in the loft above my parents’ garage. I let tears flow for a few minutes in reflection and then returned to hiding beneath that impervious shell that made me appear so stronger and holding everything together.
 
New things can be fun and filled with awe and wonder and excitement.  They can also be scary...and overwhelming...and stressful.
 
I’m testing waters I’ve never thought to swim in. Being brave doesn’t mean you don’t have fears or worry. Being brave is admitting that you have fears and worries and still walk forward with your decision. So whether it’s a new relationship, a new business venture, or whatever the new “thing” may be that has come into your life...it’s okay to fear and worry and be nervous and overwhelmed.
 
So here I go. I’m not sure what will happen, but here I go.
 
New things do not signify the end of things or people past. One way or another...we carry our past with us. Always.
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Present and Accounted For

It’s been a weird week.

 

It seldom happens to me, not because I think I’m invulnerable to feeling weird or down, but mostly because my mind is too consumed in what I’m doing to pay those emotions any attention.

 

My mind is a strong one.  That’s not me bragging.  It’s just true.

 

But even strong minds have their limits.

 

This week tested me I suppose.  I spent the week observing people, myself included, for the most part.

 

People are weird.  Even other people grieving.

 

I don’t think that that’s a bad thing, but I think sometimes we forget that at the end of the day, we’re people all the same, with the same character flaws and quirks that we had before we were widowed.  Now, we just have an added level of trauma and crazy.

 

We still take advantage of each other.  Use each other for our own personal gain.  We lie to each other.  We’re capable of disrespect and indifference.  We're annoyed by people, even if they’re suffering the same plight we are.  We still let each other down.

 

 

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