I'm here, and I am in the land of the living. I venture to the land of death often throughout my days. Sometimes voluntarily, and sometimes not. Life is so similar to riding a wave, there are highs and there are lows. I've been given so many books and pamphlets and things to read about loss and depression, survival and moving forward. I like what I read and I appreciate those who took the time to put their thoughts into words and ultimately publish them, but in the end, I revert back to sadness and loss. I feel guilty about it. When I cry, I hide out. I know my family thinks, "How can't she be over this by now." I know I'll never be over it. I talk with others who have gone through the same thing I'm going through, they too are not over it. I know to move forward, I know to keep taking steps forward and I do, but I'm still so sad. I have a recording on my answering machine my dad left me just before his ultimate demise was revealed. I listen to his voice and instead of picturing the man who was old I hear fear in the man I have pictures of who was young. As I've mentioned before, at some point in life you became an adult. You became who you were going to be and you simply age from that point on. The person doesn't age within, only the surface appearance and internal workings age. Your mind, your thoughts, your over-all personality, you are who you are going to be. So when I hear the fear in his voice, the questions he knows will be answered by his doctors later that day, I know I hear the sounds of fear in a young soul. And I also know, this is a road I'm on, your on, we're all on. It is life. And what is the meaning of life? Is it a class that we have been enrolled in that starts at birth and ends at death? How much can you learn while you're here. How much smarter can you become, how wise can you become, how do you cope, learn to help yourself and others through tragedy and sad times. That is all I can think that we are here for,... to learn. Well, that and to make memories. I believe we take all of those who we make memories with, with us. Those connections the memories hold, keep the connections from ever being severed.
So, I'm trying to stay in the land of the living. I'm trying not to spend too much time asking why. Everyone who loses someone asks why. I sometimes feel less worthy of sadness and pain, because my dad died at an old age, 77. He wasn't taken in a tragic accident, he wasn't a child robbed of a long life, he wasn't in the prime of his life, with children and a wife to care for, he was an old retired man. That's what he was. But to me, he was important. He kept me going when I was stuck, when I wasn't moving. He was the person I called and talked to all through the weeks, the months and the years, and now... I don't have the option to call.
Do I talk to him everyday? Of course I do. Do I hear him reply. Sometimes I think I do. I know when he is with me. He and I have made a connection through our different levels of consciousness. That is a fact. I'm grateful for that. I tell him, I know it's him, I know he is connecting and I love him for it. It does help to an extent. When I'm in deep conversation with him, or crying over him being absent, my entire body will cover in goosebumps. I'm not joking, I'm covered head to toe and they won't go away, they stay until I'm over the worst part of my grief. In a warm house, unchilled, and yet, there they are. Not every time either, only when I really feel lonesome for him. It's his sign to me. The other day as I was making beds and feeling down I heard him, his voice in my head say, "You're moving forward." He said it over and over, and I stopped, realizing his voice was talking to me. I was so busy making the bed and focusing on the chores I needed to accomplish I was ignoring the voice talking. I stopped, and listened, and replied to him, "I am." I know that is all he wants.
What is my point? Do I have one? I'm not even sure that I do. Sometimes I write like this just to think aloud, and maybe help others think aloud about their life and their loss with me. Share a moment of similarity. I can tell you this, I don't forget what others I know and love have gone through with their own personal loss. I feel, I really do, I feel for others who I know are going through what I am, or have been going through what I am for years and years. I even cry over those who I don't know personally, but I know the pain and I hate that anyone has to feel this way.
"Loss, is a part of life." I've heard it, I've even said it to my kids. It is. I get it. I'm just trying to understand it.
Always wishing all my readers the best life has to offer. Live, love, pray, and make Lots of memories.
S.
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