Like so many of us, I'm decent at giving advice. I have confidence in my emotional ability to help, offer insight and reframe a problem or situation for OTHERS. I lack, still, the proper use of my own advice, words and notions. Today, though, I sit back and let the words to my friend seep in.
I emailed her and I had asked her a few questions and warned her not to ask ME any...
The questions/answers were:
What colors make you think of him: Orange and Red
What quote or song reminds you of him: "Michelle" by the Beatles was a song he sang to her every night.
What is her aura color (I didn't ask her, I saw) : She is eggplant or purple...
What were his initials: J and M
She also shared unsolicited that he was a photographer and she was a part of that, and shot her first job with him at thirteen.
I added a healing stone for grief and a hand picked shell I found in Coastal Maine.
So, without a plan, or goal I came up with this.
Do you ever read Rumi? I find that he really helps me when I'm feeling scared about existential "endings." I really believe that a soul is forever. Not like you're an ant, then a dog...etc. But the essence exists someway, somewhere beautiful. I don't ascribe to labels or things that throw my thoughts in a box because I feel it; I don't name it. We'll have to chat sometime. You aren't losing him, none of us lose anyone.
That said, you SHOULD be emotional, these kind of things bring the whole list of priorities to face and re-aligns them. Everything OTHER than people you love seems unimportant. I think that's a healthy re-calibration here and there. I'm so sorry your hurting and I wish I could make it better with mere words. I can not. The only way out of grief is through it. But focus too, on the beautiful passage of a soul to the next thing, I believe God and all things are exactly as they are meant to be. Not in the "God has a reason, so don't be sad..." way. More like "If you didn't dump that one guy, choose that College, adopt Stone, and John's fingers weren't jacked up, and your father lived-on sick, and feeble and in pain, what then?
I trust that each tiny event directly effects a larger whole. A collective life of all of us. It weaves in and out, and bad things are blessings under shrouds and good things can turn into big mistakes, but there is no loss. There is only learning and being. Be in the moments if you can. Be sad if you are, and learn from it. I think that idea can go through sports or marriage or parental loss. Something "is" and when it "isn't" you acknowledge that and trust that you learned what you needed to. It is all fading and flowing in a wind of constant change and growth (hopefully).
You are so loved, your father was so loved, and nothing ends just as nothing really begins. They just... are. And we are so blessed for that. I'm so fortunate to get to make this little thing for you. It makes me feel like I can contribute to helping just a little, or in some small way.
"Doesn't have long" has been a range from days to months. It's not something anyone can predict. Don't feel guilt right now. Would you want your children feeling guilty for spending time and honoring their family and their kids traditions if they had the same info you do?
Guilt won't serve you, nor your trip, and it's not helping him. Keep praying and sending positive love and hope, not so much for a recovery, but for a peaceful and loving time. It IS scary. Its final and reminds us how simply NOT in control we are, BUT...In a way that is the beauty of it, no? To surrender...Be present, because we ultimately are just here trying to make sense of the whole thing, find a destination, but the journey is the point.
So many people miss it looking and comparing and judging. You're in it. It's sad, and scary and happy and full of love if you let it be. Don't add the unnecessary stuff. Keep calling every day. Keep saying you love him. Keep pondering and have gratitude for all he was and is to you then and now, and that energy will carry to him.
I believe that with my whole heart."
Hug your kids, fart, laugh, just live, its a blessing...
Her father passed away on this Sunday past. The painting is drying as so many eyes are the opposite left behind and swimming in the grief of losing a parent, husband, brother, friend. I too, cried. For her and him, and again when I saw the gift her loss gave me: Clarity...a little clarity in this muddy, cloudy, confusing stage of loss I saw some beauty and humanity. I'm grateful I got to try to help in some small way.
Life is long and hard and short and sweet depending on what kind of day you are having. I know this, all we have is right now and it is a gift. Seeing even the worst days this way can ease some pain in knowing you still found the beauty instead of the bitter.
That's a huge accomplishment.
"Shimmer with a smile. Life is hard, bloom anyway."