I’d like to thank my mom for giving me the courage to speak about this today. I told her it’s scary
being that vulnerable because people can be cruel. She told me, “Lana,
the cruel folks are a handful, but the number of people you could be helping are… well,
a number so large you can’t comprehend.” I hope she’s right. So, here goes nothing.
Early last year, I lost my grandmother, whom I’d grown up with since I was 4. It changed my life.
When you’re a kid, it seems like life just goes on and on forever. Death may be something you
hear about, but you can’t quite grasp what it even means. Being a little kid and naive,
I thought my grandmother and I would be building forts together for infinity.
Actually, you don’t even understand death as an adult, until it happens to someone you love;
until you’re by their side, holding their hand, as they slowly fade into
something you can’t comprehend. That moment stays with you forever, and it changes you.
Suddenly, your own mortality becomes
very real. Cliches like “tomorrow isn’t promised” and “life is short” are no longer
quotes you share on Twitter just because they sound true; they get a whole different meaning.
“A life Jimmy, you know what that is? It's the shit that happens while
you're waiting for moments that never come”. That’s from the show The Wire.
While I’m all for thinking things through, weighing the benefits against the downsides;
the risk against the potential reward, I also know how it’s a slippery slope, and how it can lead to
freezing in inaction; where your whole life starts to feel like a waiting game…
the right circumstances, the right time, the right place, the right thing to say, to do.
I like to call it the brick-collector syndrome. It’s when you do research,
read, prepare, or worse, just think about the thing you want or need in your life,
all of that being “the bricks”, but you’re not building for shit.
Kinda like how I’d been collecting bricks
for years before I got the wakeup call I needed and finally got myself a puppy.
He’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and had it not been for the situation I
was in, I’d still be waiting. That’s what we often do… we wait. And we wait. And we wait.
“Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans”, as the saying goes.
We’re promised one thing in life, and that’s the present moment. Therefore, anytime we
say “tomorrow”, “next week”, “next year” or “in ten years' ', we’re gambling with… time.
I’m not saying “live every day like it’s your last”. In fact, I can stand that quote. What I am
saying though, is, “don’t live like you have an unlimited amount of days left, because you don’t.”
Like I said, loss changes you. But how?
I’m still trying to figure that one out, which is why I’m writing this.
What I know though is that our time is limited, and
I aspire to spend most of that time in peace and joy with the people I care about, not in conflict
and resentment. And I’d like to believe I’ve been making a conscious effort to live by that;
By not making a fuss about the small stuff; by apologizing more often;
by not staying upset for too long.
I’m still human, and sometimes, my emotions get the best of me, and
that’s okay. But to feel something and to act on that feeling are two different things.
React when it matters, don’t when it doesn’t, and learn the difference. That’s my mantra.
No one lays on their deathbed thinking “those silly arguments were totally worth it.”
Time doesn’t heal
As time has passed, I’ve come to the realization that
time doesn’t heal, it just makes you think about the thing that happened less frequently, and you
may start to associate less negative emotion with that event. I believe this is true for
all sorts of loss, like breaking up or getting your house destroyed by a natural disaster.
"Grief changes shape, but it never ends,”
said Keanu Reeves. I don’t think I could’ve worded it any better myself.
You continue to live on, but life is never the same. It doesn’t mean you can’t be happy again,
you can, just happy in a different way, because you’re different.
The initial time following loss feels like uncontrollable bleeding, which means you can’t
think of anything else, because, well, there’s fucking blood everywhere, metaphorically speaking.
With enough time, it turns into a scab, and lastly, into a scar. And while that scar will
forever remind you of a time you sometimes wish you could forget, it’s also a testament to love;
the love you had for that person, the love they had for you, the love you shared.
“Grief is the price we pay for love.” said Queen Elizabeth II.
Love. That little bitch. I think we’ve all thought to ourselves, after experiencing loss,
perhaps just for a split second, that we wish we’d never met that person,
and that we wish… we weren’t capable of love. Wouldn’t that be lucky? That way, you’d
never have to feel the pain of loss, because one of the saddest
truths about life is that every single thing we love, will eventually end in grief.
As Harry said in the Order of the Phoenix, "I don't want to play anymore. All it does
is make you care too much. And the more you care, the more you have to lose.”
It took me a moment to realize that being sad, and living a sad life, are two
completely different things. Voldemort embodies the latter, and I
haven’t met anyone who said they’d like to trade lives with him.
I’ll continue to love, obviously, I couldn’t not even if I tried.
Those scars are what makes life worth living, in a way, I guess.