Love, Life, Separation, & Death

An interesting thing happened to me today.
In the midst of moving about, cleaning, organizing, and getting some laundry done, I walked into the Kungaloosh room. This space was created in part as an homage to a wonderful space that enjoyed a significant footprint in the physical realm of a world that has since passed, and now is conjured up in the memories of intrepid travelers.

It was also created as a time capsule for all those road trips my brother and I took when we both lived in South Florida. University was not always the priority it should have been, but a trip to Pleasure Island and its crown jewel for us – The Adventurer’s Club – was always in the cards.
I walked into the room to put something away and glanced over at photo of he and me together, and I found myself talking to it.

July 13th came and went as quietly as I could manage. I thankfully was working and had a distraction to occupy my time.
July 13th 2014. The second anniversary of his death.

So here I am, a week later, going through the ordinary motions of a guy on his day off, lost in domestic dedication.
But I looked at that photo, a picture I’ve had since it was taken 17 years ago, and one which I have looked at every time I had cause to walk into the room, and I spoke to it.
“You weren’t supposed to die. You were supposed to live a long time. I was supposed to die before you.”
And I cried like I have not yet for his passing.
I talked to him, or the photo anyway, and continued to cry. I’ve a shrine to him as well as items we have collected or he acquired. I walked to the other side of the room and sat down. Feeling broken and disconnected I reached out for the Art Deco plane he gave me, a part of a simple acquisition and relocation plan on his part, and cried some more.

I had not imagined my Saturday would be so filled with personal drama and pain.
I recently had a talk with an old friend who insisted they “understood what I was going through.”
I am not so sure. We all manage loss and death, and the pain and grief that follows, in unique ways. And the depth of our love is different.
Working through this grief I suddenly realized this is the one thing that has a terrible ROI. Maybe besides Jealousy.

Grief and Jealousy are two things that you invest in that returns nothing you’d want.

When you have someone important in your life suffer through the loss of someone they love, the best thing you can do is be supportive by being there.
Do not, for any reason, say, “I understand.” It is most likely you do not. There are always exceptions. His wife? she understands. Everyone else simply wants to.
Just be there and be quiet. If you feel compelled to say anything else let them know your shoulder and ears are theirs for the asking.

Just Be There.


3 Responses to “Love, Life, Separation, & Death”

  1. Denise Says:

    One day at a time, my friend….

  2. paulaestess Says:

    I’m saddened to hear about Christopher. I hope it brings you comfort to know that the music book he loaned me many years ago launched a promising career for the most talented piano student I ever taught.

  3. Einnor Nesneros Says:

    You are an constant amazement in what you have learned and the expanding of your wisdom , I would only hope age does this to us all . The key is to retain the wisdom and continue to learn more . It ain’t over till we’re dead on the tailgate of our trucks ………

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