Yesterday I stumbled across the Linked In page of my deceased college friend and I just broke down in tears. I had to pause for a moment -- I was on Linked In looking at some other friends/connections and his page just popped up. It was eery. I had to pause for a moment and collect my thoughts.
Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe I had confused him with someone else. He wasn't dead. I mean, here was his Linked In page describing his business... making him sound alive and well. Ready to take on the world.
But then I exhaled. I remembered that yes, indeed he had passed away a few short months ago. And though we weren't close, the finality of his existence hit me hard. Death is a normal part of life. None of us lives forever. I, for one, do not fear death -- for myself. But it does present a conundrum for me when it comes to people I love and care for.
When cleaning up some paperwork in my bedroom the other day, I came across the program from my cousin's funeral... and again, I was stunned and shocked. Yes, I know that she's gone but seeing that paper brought it back to me that it wasn't a matter of we're too busy to connect... she really isn't here any longer.
I recently read a blog post about grieving and it hit me that I am still mourning. I am mourning the loss of friends and family this year. I am still mourning the losses I incurred because of breast cancer. And while I have managed to pick myself up and dust myself off each time I've fallen (or been pushed) down... that pain, that grief is right there just under the surface of my life.
The blog that I read mentioned that grief was broken into three stages... numbness, disorganization and reorganization. {Mamaspeak: co-parenting and grief on losing love and finding yourself}
I feel that I am giving the world my "I've got it all together face"... nearly 90% of the time. Truthfully, I feel that its my job to present that facade to the world. Reading this blog post showed me myself in a new way though. I'm smack dab in the midst of the disorganization phase... there are days where I cannot get it together. If you could see my bedroom -- where I spend an inordinate amount of time -- you would cringe. I am losing things, forgetting things... hesitating to do things that I know that I need to do. Its a shame and more importantly... its not really me. A little messiness is one thing, that's normal. I'm edging away from normal and starting to wonder if I'm really struggling with something major. I suppose that realizing that there may be an issue is a start to figuring out how to fix things.
For every victory and step forward... I am human enough to admit defeats and steps backward. But I'm still pushing forward. I do not know whether or not I'm doing this correctly. But I'm trying to keep moving forward. Even if the pace isn't as fast as I would like it to be.
