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Friday, August 29, 2008

Next verse same as the first, a little more empty, a little bit worse

"Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe"
- from the song Breathe, 2AM

Waking up after a death. It is like reliving it over and over again for awhile. It makes me all dark and thinky like this post. But that is okay. It is part of life. Life isn't all happy crafts and funny family moments. I am realizing it is important to honor the sadder parts too. Not wallow, but remember and lower our heads a bit at the weight of it all.

My husband's best friend died yesterday, effectively changing our world. The world we lived where he made us laugh daily, hard and with all our soul. The world where he was on both our "circle of friends" phone network. The world where he worked with my husband, and where customers called me to tell me how fond they were of him. The world where my kids called him "Uncle". It is gone now, and I am feeling how flimsy are the bonds of expectations and limitations that we weave about ourselves.

We create a timeline in our minds of how we perceive things to be unfolding. We also have alternate timelines rolling around in our hope and fear centers of the brain; a hopeful one, the one that is a little bit better than the actual timeline of your life, and of course the opposite one. The problem with the 'real' timeline of your life? It is just as imaginary as the other two. You think you are stuck on a certain track, you even lament how difficult it seems to change your course... but the thing is, this life we are living is just as ethereal as the dreams and fears we keep bottled up inside.

Death unchains us, from our body, from our reality, from life. Death unchains the ones left behind. Unchains us from the bindings we create. Makes us feel the potential that flows through us by merely being creatures with breath. These deep thought moments within the thick of grief, things seem more clear. Like how fast this all really is. How we should roast more marshmallows. How it really is all small stuff.

Marc and I love life and we love our family and friends. We are blessed and humbled by the relationships we have and have had. We are okay. We alternate between big gulping snotfests of crying and then laughing odd real world joking. Very alive. Very appreciative. Very sad.

4 comments:

rae said...

I am so deeply sorry for the loss of your friend. I will be sending you thoughts of peace and healing. Keep hugging your kids and your husband. Take good care of each other, and know that your online friends are sending you real world love.

Mommylion said...

Thank you, Rae.

Mrs.Q said...

Be well. Sending Light your way.

Mommylion said...

Thank you, Mrs. Q.