“So this is what grief feels like.” – I say to my counselor, as the tears begin to fall.
Like coming to the edge of a cliff and looking down into the abyss.
Like standing in an empty room, devoid of light and sound. There are no windows, no doors, no ceiling, and no floors.
A vast emptiness. Nothingness. An unbearable sadness.
There are no words to truly describe it. There are no further lessons to be learned, no comfort to be found. There is simply nothing left.
Stare into it long enough and you shall certainly lose yourself, as well. I know this.
As October 26th approaches, I can feel myself falling; giving in to all that is not and no longer here.
For the past three years, however, there has always been something “more”. Something more to do – to attend to, to address, to rectify or fight for. I could feel my parents everywhere and in everything. But now, there is nothing. We have closed their legal case, ended their trial, and as we’ve entered the final stages of liquidating their estates, it feels as if there is nothing left. They simply cease to exist. I don’t feel them anymore. I don’t “see” them anywhere. Just this empty space where, once, they used to be.
You see, I am not afraid of the “dark” and I have no problem turning to face the deep. I’ve been able to sit with the uncomfortable and sift through the pieces. I turn it over and over to see it for what it really is and do my best to find the meaning in it all.
Perhaps there is beauty here? The closing of a chapter; the turning of a page. But, right now, I simply do not see it. I can not yet see beyond this day, beyond their lives, beyond the loss, and beyond this void.
If none of it matters anymore – what was even the point of their lives? Of your life? Or of mine?
This is not to insinuate that their lives did not have meaning. It goes without saying that they loved and were loved by many in return. They did many good things for many different people throughout their 60+ years upon this Earth, despite the relatively small scale upon which their kindnesses were performed. But if “Life” just simply moves along, with everybody and everything in it, when we die what is the actual point of our time spent here?
It’s a slippery slope to consider such things for a prolonged period of time. Look too closely, think too deeply, and you could easily lose yourself to the fragility of our own existence. I have, at times, lost hours of my own life spiraling within this mental matrix. I find myself having to force my own thoughts and body forward, intentionally shaking off the heaviness of this morbidly hopeless thought process, numbing this pain with the fluid motion of a daily run.
“The development of the mind comes through movement.” – Maria Montessori
Running has, once again, become my safeguard and my savior. I can say it no better than my friend, Tony Garcia, already has:
It’s been three years.
A long and complicated grief.
But, when I run, suddenly there is calm.
*See the following links to purchase one (or all three!) of my friend, Tony’s incredibly inspiring books!
Wanna Know a Truth?: A Simple Man’s Search for the Truths in His Life https://www.amazon.com/dp/1539896226/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_M7mKFbA86A34Y
Whispers from My Heart: Learning to Quiet the Noise https://www.amazon.com/dp/1979496919/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_n8mKFbZP9C78Z
Secrets, Truths, & Whispers: Lessons from a Good, Hard Life (Heart Whispers) https://www.amazon.com/dp/164704216X/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_I8mKFbV2FY09G