The Weight of a Living Legacy

Shortly after losing Tin I was honored being asked to write in this space. I quickly felt the weight of grief ease as the words hit the paper. An amazing thing began to happen, others started to respond to my writing that they felt connected again and that lifted my grief a bit more. As I continued moving forward, I had started to use essential oils for support and the community surrounded me with support and asked me to share my story with others. No matter how many times I share my story it never gets easier, just different. However, I keep telling my story because each time I see my words create a space of safety for others even if it’s for just a moment where they don’t feel alone.

Recently I shared my story in a Facebook group. Shortly after, the President of the essential oils company contacted me and offered for me to fly up to the corporate office to share my story with the executive directors. I’m leaving for the meeting in two days. I have no problems sharing the story I have now told over 100 times. I have no issue speaking in front of large groups yet I am feeling this new weight on my shoulders. It’s noticeable and felt very confusing to me. Where has the unsure tension come from? I am not in the least bit intimidated by the people I’m speaking with on Tuesday.

Last night, a group of oils leaders and I made history by creating and launching the first ever LGBTQ+ essential oils Facebook support group. It launched and within 12 hours had almost 600 members. We created a space that so many had hoped for but no one had stepped up to the plate. My phone has been ringing and dinging nonstop all morning. As I took in all of the messages of celebration and support I can’t help but wish Tin was here to be a part of the new rev-oil-ution. I began to think about what I would add to my story for the executive team and the weighted feeling increased as I realized it’s nature. Every time I speak about Tin, I am bringing him back into this world and introducing them to man I love and miss terribly. My words are more than providing a space for other to feel understood. My words are breathing him back to life. Now I’m about to get up in front of a billion dollar company and introduce them to Tin. I’m leading the charge for this company as they are making efforts to continue to show inclusivity because of the love and loss I have experienced.

The weight I now am feeling is from wanting to do my best to breathe all the life I can into Tin’s legacy. He apologized to me near the end of his time because he was leaving us. I know he felt guilt. If only he could have known than that he would have such a profound positive impact on so many other people. I truly believe he is here and the driving force for all that is opening up to me and I feel proud to carry the weight of his living legacy.

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  • Cathy
    commented 2019-08-27 18:21:49 -0700
    “Every time I speak about Tin, I am bringing him back into this world and introducing them to man I love and miss terribly.”
    Yes to this…so many people think it’s best to just move on after your partner dies, but we know the truth, they will be with you forever. And the more you mention their name, the more you share your story, the more others will understand that moving on isn’t all that easy. You carry their memory with you forever, and sadly, someday they will understand too.
  • Mari Posa
    commented 2019-08-26 20:12:32 -0700
    Bryan, that is such a wonderful opportunity. I love how you expressed that when you speak of Tin, you are bringing him back into this world. I feel the exact way when I speak about my husband. I truly believe that Tin is looking out for you, and is the force behind opening those wonderful opportunities for you.
  • Sarah Treanor
    commented 2019-08-25 06:05:58 -0700
    This is so cool. And I totally get that feeling of heaviness. When I was 9, my mom died. She was only 44. I remember even at that young age having a depth of understanding that she did not get to live her life fully. I remember growing up with this silent weight that I needed to not only do well, but that I wanted to do important things in order to essentially live both her life and mine. It was a lot to grow up with that weight. Often times it does feel heavy. Other times, it feels like such an honor. Most of all, I try to remember though after having lived over 25 years since her death, that this choice to live for her and for me is just that – my choice. And if I did choose not to do any of that, it would still be okay.

    Wishing you the best on this trip and safe travels! How exciting, and healing, and beautiful that new things are unfolding that are meaningful for you. The biggest thing my fiance’s death has taught me is that this new life is best when I am making meaning out of all the experiences – even the hard ones. Sounds like you are doing just that.