As I sit here, reading the obituary of a relative’s son, I think about the writing of an obituary for anyone. When my son died, I thought, I can’t write his obituary, but I did. I can’t say I would not write it differently today, seven years later. I forgot to add people who were part of our family… I would have worded a few things differently… I am not sure it would even read the same today. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to write, and that is my therapy–writing! I thought it was the hardest at the time. As time goes on, that “hardest” list grows.
I think about the family who had to write the obituary that I read a few months ago of an old grade school classmate. I know what was going through their minds. I know how blurry those thoughts were as well. I also know down the road, they will think of something they wished they had written, or not written. We can’t change it once it is in writing. And the one the obituary is focusing on doesn’t know it, unless they wrote it themself.
I think I want my obituary to be a book. It may be with writing as my therapy. I do think about writing my own obituary to save the hardship from my loved ones. They could even change it and I wouldn’t know it… or would I??? Bottom line, it seemed like the hardest part, but it isn’t. By far…
My list of “hard parts” is growing… daily! First hard part for me besides sitting with the coroner and hearing that my son died, and how he died, was calling his sister, girlfriend, and our family. Then, it was posting the message on Facebook. Then, it was planning a funeral. Then, it was going home to an empty house. Then, it was going into his room. Then, it was not hearing his truck pull in the drive late at night. I think you can figure out where this is headed… The hard parts pile up one after the other. It is like an endless pit of despair!!
Here I am, seven years later and I still have moments that catch me off guard! Tears are still in abundance. Songs, for me, can open flood gates like nothing else can!! It’s a moment in time where I step aside from reality and then —boom!— right back in! Those are the hard parts. I just never know which “hard” part is around the corner.
As I sit here listing the hard parts, and there are many, I also realize how those hard parts reignite the wonderful feelings I miss so much. Just because I cannot experience them in reality does not mean I should forego experiencing them in my mind and heart. It wouldn’t be this hard if I didn’t have that much love to begin with and if the one I lost didn’t live life so fully. As a result, I am going to flip flop here. I thank God these are hard. If they were easy, it would not seem to have left such a big, gaping hole in my heart. If it were easy, I believe it would be even harder on me. The pain is the price of love. The hard part means I didn’t want to let go. If you are having a hard time, that means something went right along the way. It doesn’t make it any easier, but it makes the pain more bearable.
I struggled these past seven years. I have cried more than I thought I ever could. My heart still beats and still aches at the same time. I have had a lot of wonderful things happen in those seven years as well. I think those have been hard knowing I wish my son had been here to experience those wonderful things as well. That being said, the hard part is knowing he wasn’t, but I believe he was in spirit. I have to live with that. And, as always, I will continue to cry because he is gone, but I smile because he was here. That part is the easy part, knowing he was! Tomorrow is another day!!
#gonebutnotforgotten #forever24 #thehardpart #thedashinthemiddle
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