Everyone's free

Dear September,

This is one where I tell you a little story...

Life is interesting. This statement is a cliché and just goes over our heads, because we hear it so often. It has lost all meaning.

But really, life is interesting. I believe in the philosophy that our lives are in our hands, not in a literal sense, because our lives are in God’s hands, but more in the sense that we create our own futures. I think this is a comforting philosophy because otherwise, what is left is bleak and unimaginable. If God does not have a part to play in our destiny then everything that happens to us is as a direct result of our actions.

That being said, I used to be the type of girl that thought she was invincible, because life was somewhat easy for me. I had experienced what I thought were hard times, like just stupid teenage drama and issues at school, but never real grief. When people spoke about suffering because of loss, I saw their pain, and thought I understood it. I said mundane, meaningless things that you are supposed to say like “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “I know how you feel”. When in fact, I had not even the slightest clue. And I can say that now because I have experienced loss and it is nothing like I thought it was. Real grief causes an unimaginable, excruciating pain, a burden so heavy that I can’t bear the thought and the guilt of being responsible for it as well. I depend on knowing and believing that it is part of God’s plan for me; it’s about the only thing that helps.

They say change is the only constant thing in life. When something or someone changes, we usually see it or sense it, but grief changes people in ways that are unexplainable. It’s the kind of change that you can miss if you are not paying incredible attention.

Many of the important things that happened to me in my childhood, I remember. But I don’t remember anything like I remember the day I lost a part of myself. I lost my brother, my cousin, my family. The grief came so suddenly; it was almost unexplainable. He was just gone. It wasn’t the kind that urged me to cry or be angry, it was the kind that made me feel physical pain. I became totally numb; the pain seemed so heavy a burden that my mind chose to ignore it, as a sort of coping mechanism.

I knew what was going on, but I didn’t understand it. We didn’t expect it, not even a bit and it shook us in a different way. I had so many different phases and I still go through them. There was the phase of sadness, not being able to understand what had happened and why. There was the phase of anger, still not being able to understand what had happened and why. There was the phase of questioning my faith and everything good. My life was no longer this “perfect” thing, I was no longer living on a cloud. Everything just seemed dark and void of any kind of magic. Happiness never seemed so far away. There was the phase of trying to understand if I was being punished. Because there was no way this was random, I had to have done something to warrant this kind of pain.

So, my darling September, I can’t say there’s a way to get past it or that time heals all wounds, because there isn’t and it doesn’t. The one thing this has taught me is to not think too hardly about it for my own sanity. Sometimes, my mind drifts and I get incredibly sad. I still wander and a part of me doesn’t really believe it has happened, but everyone’s free. I guess people could call it denial, but it’s my way of dealing with what happened. For a long time, I couldn’t say the word ‘death’ or the phrase ‘has died’, still have trouble, but everyone is free. Me, to deal with my grief in the way I want and those we’ve lost, to live lives absent of suffering and pain, a path that is beautiful. Everyone’s free.