Today marks the 9th year since one of my dearest friends passed... I remember the day I received the call telling me he was gone. My first reaction was denial, "You're kidding, right. He's standing there- that's not funny, it's not fucking funny" that rapidly shifted into knowing it was real. It was as though the life had been kicked out of me; I couldn't breathe. In a numb haze I somehow found myself flying back to PA from Hawaii. Everything that happened after was a whirlwind of foggy, yet painfully and explicitly clear, memory. Part of me was still in denial up until the viewing. From that moment on, I felt as though I had been left to wander the face of the earth alone.
He was the first one to see through the darkness that encompassed me at the time. He was never afraid of my life, and sat with me through some of my most desperate and helplessly lost moments. Inexplicably, he would frequently make contact in some way when I was in the midst of one of my meltdowns, even when we were 6000 miles apart he was somehow still present with me. I always thought the idea of soul mates was a crock of shit... until I met him.
My last adventure to Kenya reminded me that, in spite of how much I miss him, I am incredibly grateful for the lessons I've learned through his complete love and acceptance while he was here, and for teaching me how to live through his death. He is why I've learned that the people and relationships in my life are what matter the most. At the end of it all, I will want to know that those I loved knew just how much I loved them- that I endeavored my utmost to be the best version of myself for not just my benefit, but for theirs. He is why I am teaching myself to make decisions out of love and not fear- to live boldly, openly, passionately, and honestly.
Though, that all said, there's always an underlying bittersweet melancholy I have in every place I go because I know they are experiences he would have loved.
It has taken me years to find the so-called silver lining of such a devastating blow, but I finally resolved that the best way for me to honor those I've lost is to LIVE. My part of the story must go on.
"There's no second I've lived that you can't call your own."
-House of Leaves
It has been two years since the death of my father and one of my best friends within two months of each other. They were my two rocks that were always there for me no matter what. I can relate to what you are saying about really living life to honor them. I often think about them and what they would think about the choices I am making in my life. I think they would have been proud and happy for me. I can't say I am not scared, but I am determined to keep moving forward and claiming the life I always knew I could live if I had the courage to move forward - despite the fear.
ReplyDeleteYou are such an inspiration, and I am SO proud of you. I'm terrified too, but I think that is worth the payoff of knowing we are owning our lives and taking responsibility for the outcome. Let's catch up soon.
DeleteI'm so glad you sent me this post, it is beautifully written. This line spoke to me in particular: "At the end of it all, I will want to know that those I loved knew just how much I loved them." That is something very important that I learned as well, to never take it for granted, to always let people know how I feel.
ReplyDeleteI hate it that it took a devastating tragedy to learn that lesson, shouldn't that just be the way it is always? Sadly, it's not....