The New World

The world is changing.

 

Perspectives are changing.

 

And they will continue to, so long as we journey forward and make attempts, not to be heard, but to hear.

 

This weekend I dived just a little further down the rabbit hole.

 

Grief is a funny thing.  It is a powerful and undeniable force, and many are trying their best to either suppress it, forget it, or overcome it.

 

What I’ve learned in a short time, however, is grief is not some obstacle to be overcome.  It is a part of us.  It will always be a part of us. I am a father.  I am a brother.  I am a son.  I am a widower.  Those are all roles I have but they do not define who I am or what I do.

 

There is a beauty in coming to terms with that, at least for myself there has been.  It’s powerful to take control back from things we’ve felt we’ve had no control over.  To harness what comes with that and to use it to not only empower but encourage others to forge their own paths and do the same.

 

I’m not sure where all of this is leading, but one day very soon, I believe I’ll be on the cusp of an answer.

 

The archaic methods of one-size-fits-all grief are in dire need of a facelift. We are unique individuals, each with unique experiences and stories, and those conditions should be treated as such.

 

I’m embracing it. My love for Linzi never died and it will never go away. In fact, I may love her even more now than I did then.

 

This isn’t the end. Not yet.


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  • commented 2018-01-06 21:28:41 -0800
    Very well said, Gabe. Today is 6 weeks since my best friend and husband, Scott passed. 6 weeks feels like nothing, but it feels like everything. I’m shocked I am able to get out of bed each day and carry on. But I do, because I feel him cheering me on. I know he didn’t want to leave, but pancreatic cancer had another idea. 20 days is all we knew he was sick, which I am already seeing as a blessing that he didn’t suffer more. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have anyone to text my stupid thoughts to throughout the day, or see when I walk through the door each day. It sucks, and I think that’s what all widows/widowers will tell you. Yep, it’s true.

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