There is nothing like death to make you re-evaluate how you want to deal with life.
A woman I cared for very deeply passed away last week after many years of dealing with the Big C. While most would say that she fought bravely and valiantly, I would say that she lived through the last eight years honestly, sugarcoating nothing and telling it like it is. I will miss her.
Which brings us to the living.
A man who I loved very much told me he wanted to marry me but changed his mind a few months later for reasons I still find incomprehensible, and in one fell swoop, pulled the rug of my life from right under my feet. Or at least it felt that way. In the weeks that followed, I have discovered that the pain of rejection lacks the vigour of anger. Anger acts as a fuel that helps propel you into the future and move on in a way that plain old hurt cannot. You tend to nurse it and wallow it in until it can swallow you whole, and that is really not a great life plan.
Anyone's pain is terrible because it is their own. It is personal and all encompassing in a way that another's circumstance cannot even begin to compare with. But here's the thing about death - although it is someone else's, it puts into perspective all your seemingly catastrophic issues and makes you realize that as long as you are breathing, it is really not all that bad and it definitely could be worse.
So I am reminded now that it is possible to forgive anything, even when the transgressions seem insurmountable. To have faith that there is a plan for your life, even though it is absolutely blurry and you cannot see two feet in front of your face. To look back on memories that break your heart and see that there is happiness to be found there, regardless of someone else's decision to cast them all aside. And that amidst all the loneliness, heartache, and sadness, there are glimpses of hope, laughter, and friendship that can help make each day just a little bit better.
Above all, I know that if she can do this, I can get it together.
A woman I cared for very deeply passed away last week after many years of dealing with the Big C. While most would say that she fought bravely and valiantly, I would say that she lived through the last eight years honestly, sugarcoating nothing and telling it like it is. I will miss her.
Which brings us to the living.
A man who I loved very much told me he wanted to marry me but changed his mind a few months later for reasons I still find incomprehensible, and in one fell swoop, pulled the rug of my life from right under my feet. Or at least it felt that way. In the weeks that followed, I have discovered that the pain of rejection lacks the vigour of anger. Anger acts as a fuel that helps propel you into the future and move on in a way that plain old hurt cannot. You tend to nurse it and wallow it in until it can swallow you whole, and that is really not a great life plan.
Anyone's pain is terrible because it is their own. It is personal and all encompassing in a way that another's circumstance cannot even begin to compare with. But here's the thing about death - although it is someone else's, it puts into perspective all your seemingly catastrophic issues and makes you realize that as long as you are breathing, it is really not all that bad and it definitely could be worse.
So I am reminded now that it is possible to forgive anything, even when the transgressions seem insurmountable. To have faith that there is a plan for your life, even though it is absolutely blurry and you cannot see two feet in front of your face. To look back on memories that break your heart and see that there is happiness to be found there, regardless of someone else's decision to cast them all aside. And that amidst all the loneliness, heartache, and sadness, there are glimpses of hope, laughter, and friendship that can help make each day just a little bit better.
Above all, I know that if she can do this, I can get it together.
