Sometimes no matter what you do, the grief wave just hits you.
You try, and try, and try with all of your might to not let it happen again for whatever reason you give yourself: You’re supposed to be the strong one. You’ve cried enough, it’s time to stop now. You don’t want to feel this anymore.
Love, the real thing, is eternal. People like to pretend that it can be recaptured or replaced, but those people don’t know what love truly is. It perseveres, far beyond our finite limitations.
We are only human after all, but we are capable of inhuman things…such as love. It’s unexplainable. It’s on par with trying to explain the origins of the universe or the meaning of life.
Perhaps we try a bit too hard to escape our grief or cover it up. Perhaps we should be doing more to embrace it and let feelings flow as naturally as water melts from the ice caps and flows into streams that turn into rivers that become lakes that become oceans.
We try so hard to fight against things that so desperately need to happen to make us stronger that we throw ourselves into an endless cycle of pain and discomfort.
It feels good to cry. To release. To let things out that need to come out. It’s volatile to let them fester. To bottle them up. To hold them in.
A caged animal will always be more vicious than one allowed its freedom…because it wasn’t designed to be contained. Neither was grief.
Grief is not an animal to be tamed or conquered.
But if you set it free, and let it run its course, it’s possible it will work with you, for you, and not against you.
Then again…who am I to say?
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.