Life After Loss and Other Trite and Treasonous Idioms

Two years ago today I attended the funeral of my husband.

In the brief time between his unexpected death on the 17th and his funeral on the 22nd, we celebrated my sons 2nd birthday. How we managed I am unsure, it was all a haze. Gifted graceful hands working magic doing the only things they could think to do.

I dressed myself that morning, shoes and dress purchased for the occasion, my hair was matted, unkempt for days. I began to apply make-up—people would be looking at me—before realizing the utter absurdity given my recent rate of tears. I stepped through church doors, doors we walked through together just six days earlier. Heavy haze surrounds the memories of those times, we made it to today, from there— it has been a journey in the truest sense of the word.

The changes I have experienced from there to here seem impossible to put into words. I remember in those first few months setting up bargain pleas with life. “Just let me live until my kids turn 18, then take me from this wretched place.” I did things—went out, efforts of distraction to pass my time allotted on this earth.

There began a shift.

So very subtle it was almost immeasurable.

A growing warmth—dare say—hope.

I am not sure if the Phoenix is ever truly risen, but I am different. There is still so much pain I see around me, death and loss. I can easily let it pull me under. But I am changed now. Let me weep with those who weep. I will not however let the sorrow consume me.

There is an abundance of good in this world.

Sometimes its glow is faint.

The good things that come my way I will cherish.

There may be those that judge me. They feel someone who has truly lost should not masquerade about being jolly and full of hope for the future, Not when they know better.

I argue that loss can make you more keenly aware of the value of the gifts that pass our way. That love is not to be taken for granted, our time, our friendships, even our sunny days— these are blessings to savor. Fly the flag of redemption. That though there may be clouds on the horizon I will not let that taint my here and now. People may pass their own judgements and frankly that’s none of my business.
I will live with reckless abandon, I will love, I will hope.

Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.