HAPPY MOTHER'S DAYReference: “Being a mother is an attitude, not a biological relation.” --Robert A. Heinlein
I've been surrounded by people all of my life. Family. Friends. Friends of friends. A part of me has never really known what it feels like to be truly and utterly alone; and yet, there are so many moments in my life that I can look back on, where I told myself I was feeling just that. I used to call it my nothingness. I always imagined what it would look like if the word could actually take a physical form; and in my mind, the image of an empty and dark room always came into view. The smell always reminded me of my old bedroom when it was stripped down to nothing but bare walls and bare floors. Shallow ceilings, a grungy light blue coloring to the walls with cracks in every corner. And me standing in the center of it. Not as a first person view, but my consciousness seeing myself as I believe I truly am. No emotion, no expression. Although, knowing myself, when I look at my own face, I would probably call a blank expression contentedness. Content to be in my nothingness, to accept it, to understand it. Nothingness; it was a type of emptiness that I just dealt with over the years. I believe that I am content with it because it was easier to make peace with something so deep and dark inside my own mind; to me, fighting against it means fighting your own self, it means pushing away when in reality, your own darkness and your light should be the main things in this world you ever truly understand. And by accepting them, you accept yourself. My understanding, my acceptance is my strength. Two weeks ago, my coworker - a very good friend, a smart and talented guy - died in his sleep. He was 42 years old. One day I saw him and the next, we were told that he was gone, and it didn't seem real; like someone was lying to us, like it was some cruel joke that none of us really got. The knowledge of him being gone hasn't changed the fact that I literally struggle to believe it. It's so strange to come to work every day and not see him there. I haven't had the heart to take down his time card. He started this season with us, I keep thinking that we should at least pretend he could finish it too. Some days, when I clock in and I see his time card, I forget that he's never coming back. It's like he's out sick or he took another day off of work to help his father. It just doesn't feel like the world has lost him completely, that we've lost him completely. I get a hard reminder when I sit down at my office desk and see the receipt sitting on my clipboard because I'm not really sure how to file it away. The memo from the check stub that says "Donation to Heath's Funeral" hits me randomly over the course of the day. And then when I look at my jam packed schedule hanging on my office wall, Wednesday, May 3rd stands out with green marker "Heath's Funeral". He would have been with us to the end of all this. And it would have been grand. You would think these little things, these notes hanging around our place of work would set in some kind of realization, the proof that tells you its real, that he is really gone. It doesn't. He doesn't feel gone. He was so alive the last time I saw him, which was only the morning before. It's only made life that much more fragile in my mind. Some would say he died because it was just his time, others would say that he died because he was a smoker and didn't take care of himself - To be snuffed out like that; to know that if you go to sleep, you may never wake up; it's not me I would worry about, I imagine dying in your sleep would be the nicest way to go, you wouldn't even be aware of what was happening, you would just stay within your dream forever. It would be all the people that would mourn my passing, just like we are all mourning now. All the things you would have liked to say to me or not say to me, all the things you would have done differently if you had known that my time was almost up. Then I imagine all the things I would want to say before I was swept away into darkness without the finality of a goodbye, without the closure of an "I love you". I would tell my family to be strong, every person in our family has strong hearts and they know that even though I wouldn't be there, that they could still hold strong together. I would tell them how much I would miss them and that I know they would miss me too. I would tell my mom how precious she is to me and that her heart is the reason behind all the happiness I ever felt in my life. I would tell my daddy that he is the greatest man on this earth and that he should never give up on his dreams, that I am so, so proud of him for every thing he has ever accomplished and for being my best friend, my confidant when I needed him most. I would tell my brothers how grateful I am for them; that without all three of them, I would not have had the strength, the confidence, or the passion to get through all my hard days - they always made everything better in my life. I would tell my friends to come together, stay strong, remember how much I love them and that I know how much they love me. I promise I'm okay and where ever you believe I am, I'm happy. I know I will be wishing you were all there with me, to laugh with me, to help me through, but after all this time, I finally have to get some damn independence! Makes sense that would only happen in death. <3 To life, to the living, to death, and to the dead. |
Wisdom
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