Life, Grief...

Grief’s a funny thing. Not hilarious, but funny as in weird, the way that it can creep up on you silently or smack you full in the face and destroy you. It doesn’t wait until a convenient moment when you can prepare for it and meet it with hope and determination. It’s almost as big an asshole as the cancer that causes it for so many people. Grief was never taught manners, it has no sympathy for you, and it certainly doesn’t care that you have things you need to be doing. It’s been said that it’s a necessary evil of life; one of the steps in a process to recover from loss. I don’t see it as a step so much as a recurring theme when it comes to loss; one that never completely goes away, but one that eases with time, guidance, and distractions. In 2012, within the span of two months, I lost two of the most important men in my life to cancer. There are days when it doesn’t feel real, and as though I’ll wake up and see them again, hear their voices, and share in their laughter. Crushing, cruel reality breaks in and grief visits again. There are barely words to express the hopeless feeling that nothing will ever be the same again. That when all I want in the world is to talk to them, instead I have the knowledge that they can’t hear me, or respond the way I need. I believe their spirits are living on in me, in everyone they touched in their short lives, in the sky, the trees and the earth. I don’t believe there’s a God who has a reason for taking them away from me, or any higher power who has control over these things. It sometimes feels as though a grander scheme is at work, but at the end of the day, every one of us is responsible for how our lives turn out. Preaching and crying to someone who can’t hear you and cannot physically give you comfort or strength seems fruitless to me.

Just living seems to be an insurmountable task, doesn’t it? There’s so much to think about and do, and in the end what is it all for? We’re all striving to leave our mark on this earth, to feel like we’ve lived for something, that somehow all the pain and the tears and anger will have been worth it when we’re drawing our last breath. If nothing else, I pray I’ve helped make someone, anyone’s life easier. The human condition is a terminal disease and we all have it. I don’t think I’ll ever truly comprehend the compulsion so many of us feel to inflict harm on others, be it emotional or physical. How satisfying is it to make someone feel worthless? What is to be gained from pushing an agenda of hatred and isolation? I’m gay, but there are so many other things about me to be considered when taking stock of who I am as a person. I’m a woman, an artist, a lover, a friend, a teacher, a coworker, a hopeless romantic, a comedian, a historian. I’m everything and understand nothing. There are people in the world who would happily kill me based on only one of these things, and that terrifies me to my core. How did it get to this point? We’re living in a world of social media and constant communication and yet people are listening less than ever. I can post this for the world to see, but it will only reach a select few.

If you’re feeling lonely, helpless, without a reason to go on, remember that not only is there someone else in the world feeling exactly the same, but there are many more who feel worse. It’s a small comfort at times, but what else can we hope for? Humans have lived through centuries of turmoil and we always come bouncing back. We need to depend on each other, not destroy each other. I’m a firm believer in the healing power of hugs. Sometimes it’s enough to feel the warmth of another person and to know that someone gets it. Love is a lot to hope for, it’s not easily gained, but it’s so multi-faceted that we need to accept it in all its forms if we have a hope of surviving. Grief is everlasting, but there are ways of coping. Grief can control your life if you let it, but it can also teach you a great many things about your ability to survive, and even thrive, in spite of your loss.