Today is Bell Let’s Talk, and it’s serving as a good excuse for me to get back to writing, and my series on Grief. Part I focused on the “Shock & Awe”, the initial confusion and disorientation that happens after losing a loved one. For this entry…. we’re going to talk about the darker side of grief.
Anger & Guilt
When we think of anger during the grief process, we think of it as the blame game. We want answers. We want rationalization as to why this possibly could have happened. Some people get angry with their faith. How could their God do this to them?
The anger I’ve been dealing with has often been more abstract. And before I go too far with this… I want to make something very clear, aka, I’m writing this to you Mom… I’m not mad about the events that transpired that night. I’m not mad at my mom, the paramedics, the hospital, none of them. From the way it all happened, there was nothing anybody could have done differently in those moments.
But, my confession is that I sometimes struggle with anger towards my Dad. Why didn’t he go get his heart checked more often? Why was he so stubborn about seeing the doctor? The “what if” scenarios really get under my skin, wondering about what could have been different if he had approached his health care differently. I’m also really angry at him for not being here anymore. How could he just leave us like that?
But deep down I know… I’m not actually angry with him. I’m feeling guilty. Guilt for not being around more when he was alive, not writing down the many stories he used to tell, not chatting with him online more or on the phone, all the times I got annoyed or frustrated with him, the list goes on. I’m actually angry that I didn’t appreciate the moments I had with him more. I’m angry with myself. I’m angry that I don’t live closer to my Mom, that I can’t be there more for day to day things, and that I wasn’t there more often even before all of this.
And that anger has often made it’s way to other people. There’s been times when I have unfairly snapped at Sean, or have been frustrated with others. Often times I may lash out when I feel that I am being asked to do too much. My defenses go up very quickly. My level of patience is very low, and I often find myself feeling annoyed at the smallest of inconveniences.
Anger is an ugly emotion. I feel a lot of physical pain when I am angry. My adrenaline pumps. I get exhausted, but yet, I don’t sleep well. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like a darker version of who I really am. It brings out my worst qualities. And it’s also all really confusing. I never feel like I know if I am truly upset about something, or if it’s the grief. I feel like I don’t know myself, and my emotions at times. And I find the anger is hard to overcome, because you can’t resolve it the way you want to. If I were mad at a friend, I could contact them and try to find a solution, or at least have my feelings heard. But here, I can’t do that. I can’t yell at my Dad or ask him questions. I can’t have my feelings truly heard. Because I am talking about more than prayer, or writing in a journal, etc. A face to face conversation cannot happen, and that just feeds the anger even more because it’s all just a reminder that he’s gone. I think, too, the anger we experience when we’re grieving is because we’re exhausted. We’re done. We’re tired of talking, thinking, reacting. We just don’t want to do it anymore because everything feels pointless.
The guilt is really hard. Forgiveness for this type of guilt has to come from within, and as my therapist will tell you, I am extremely hard on myself. I rarely forgive myself. Instead, I tend to use the anger towards myself as a motivator. But that is of course, an unhealthy relationship.
So, for those who have been through this before let’s go with the spirit of today – and let’s talk about the anger, the guilt, the resentment. All those ugly feelings. Get them out into the open. Vent, rant, speak up. And also, share with me how you dealt with it. How did you forgive? How do you cope? Share your stories, and let’s get through this together. Because we can’t carry around these heavy emotions that weigh us down. We need to find freedom.
Thanks for reading, and today I close with The Moody Blues and the song “Question”. A staple in our household. I feel the frenetic energy in this song captures the roller coaster of anger, grief, and longing.
I feel like I broke a bit of a promise. I came out of hiding and wrote my first entry about grieving, and then just stopped… Naturally, one of the blog ideas I have for my informal “series” on grief is about motivation, and how I seem to have lost it. I did really expect to keep writing, it felt really therapeutic to do so last time, but here we are, nearing the end of 2019 and I didn’t keep it up.
I am sure many of us out there are feeling the same. Where did the time go? There’s also the added knowledge that a decade is ending… forcing all of us to wonder, where did the past ten years go?! It’s a humbling time, and for me this year, an overwhelming experience. I’ll get into that in more detail another time, but really, I haven’t felt this “stuck” in a long time.
Therefore, in my quest to begin to rediscover myself, my passions, and frankly, to reconnect with people, here is the annual tradition. Here, in chronological order, are the 12 Days of 2019* that shaped my life.
December 21st 2018*
Yes, I am cheating and including a date from last year! BUT… technically, this date happened after I published last year’s 12 days… so I am including it! On December 21st, I woke up in a terrible mood. I had a few things planned: go to the gym, get my nails done, and finish Christmas shopping. Then Sean and I were going to relax before heading out on our annual Christmas journey visiting all of our families. My anxiety was not happy, however, because I had slept in, and in my mind that meant I ruined my entire day. And so I woke up, cried, got angry and just generally spent the day in a “mood”. Flash forward to the evening, I was feeling a little better. Sean and I were heading out to Kringlewood, our Christmas tradition. On Inglewood Drive near St. Clair and Mount Pleasant, the entire street is filled with giant inflatable Santas. (And all of the houses look like they are straight out of Home Alone.) We love going! This year, as Sean and I were about to leave I asked him for a hug. I noticed something odd, his heart was POUNDING. I was a little alarmed, but he seemed okay so I didn’t bring it up… We get home from the street of Santas, and we begin wrapping some gifts. Sean keeps the music going playing Haim, Sam Roberts, and The Beatles. Finally, about three hours after we got home from Kringlewood, I go to the bathroom. This is a key detail. Sean needed to place a special item in our Christmas tree, and he needed me out of the room. What he didn’t count on is that I would nurse one small beer and somehow not need a pee break for hours! I wander out from the bathroom and Sean hands me a card. Inside, it contained all the funny and embarrassing quotes he has had over the years. But 2018 was blank, and when I asked why he didn’t put a quote for 2018, he answered by reaching into our Christmas tree and pulling out a tiny box. He then got down on one knee, and for the second time that day I was crying. Needless to say though, these were some of the happiest tears of my life.
January 13th 2019
I’ve written about my wonderful group of girlfriends before, and on this day we finally got all of us in one room. It’s a rare feat! Everyone is always so busy and scattered amongst Southern Ontario. Throw in some kids and it truly is like herding cats! Admittedly, they’re a group I feel I have most unintentionally disconnected myself from as this year has gone by. I feel I didn’t reach out as much as I should, or just check in as often as I should have with others. We have a group chat where we vent, share stories, memes, and provide a space for all of us to seek comfort when we need it. Given how busy everyone is, and my tendency to not want to burden people with my problems, I definitely became more withdrawn as the year went on. I’ve been through a lot of conflicting emotions. I’ve often felt forgotten about, or I’ve let my anxiety sometimes convince me that people don’t want to reach out to me because they know my answers might be depressing (and that is in general, not specifically directed to this group). Recently, most of us attended a Christmas party hosted by our friends Amanda & Alan, and it was really wonderful to be surrounded by this group again. There’s so much love, and I am truly grateful to have them in my corner when I need it. Now hopefully we’ll all be in the same room more than once in 2020!
February 8th 2019
The best and worst part about everyday life is that when you wake up each day, you truly have no idea what surprises might occur. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and discover you’ve won the lottery, or that the rainy forecast for your outdoor BBQ has turned sunny. Little or big, each day has the potential to catch you off guard. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepares you for having the rug pulled out from underneath you. On this day I went to work, and Sean picked me up afterwards. We were going to spend the evening supporting a friend of ours at the opening night of his play in Scarborough. A pretty standard Friday. And then I checked my phone at intermission. Missed calls. Voicemails. I stepped outside, and called my aunt. Then the world stopped. Just like that. For a brief time, as I sat in the lobby of the theatre being consoled by our friends, there was part of me that truly believed if I never left that bench, reality would never catch up to me. I wouldn’t have to go to Welland and deal with a world without my father.
Sadly, that’s not what happens when life hands you devastating news. You have to deal with it, whether you want to or not.
February 17th 2019
Somehow through the fog, we planned my dad’s Celebration of Life. We chose the Welland Legion, namely because it was informal and a place where we could host a large party to celebrate him. He would have been so furious with us if we planned a full blown funeral. He wanted laughter, music, and memories to be shared. We had a feeling the turnout would be large (Dad was, after all, part of a big family), but we were completely blown away that at least 400 people came through the doors to bid their farewell. It was a flood of memories and faces I hadn’t seen in years. Reunions some of us never thought possible. But most of all, it was incredibly moving to see the impact my father made on people. How many of us can say they will pack a room to its capacity when their time is up? It also made me reflect a lot on how he lived his life. I often feel bad that I never took my parents travelling, or that Dad & I never made it to New York. Those of us who escape to big cities tend to think we have larger social circles than the ones we leave behind in the small towns. But at the end of the day, through the roots my Dad created by staying in Welland nearly his entire life, my Dad cast a web far greater than I could ever hope to. (I will also say, he was also really good at keeping connected to distant family and friends). Geographically, his world was small. But socially, my Dad was the Mayor of Margaret Street. Everyone was welcome in his home, and it shows in the lasting relationships and bonds he created. I now want to strive to create those bonds for myself. To host friends in the same manner he did. To welcome strangers without judgement. Mom and I did him proud that day, and I think back to that afternoon often, wishing in some ways I could go back and share more stories, more laughs, and more tears.
February 23rd 2019
Have you ever been to a wedding where not only the bride & groom open the dance floor with hip hop karaoke, but where the bride also performs a 3 song setlist with her rock band? Because that’s exactly what we did at John & Val’s wedding! In the days leading up to their wedding, I really had no idea how I would get through it. Not only was I still on an emotional roller coaster, but this wedding meant a lot to Sean & I since we were seeing some of our closest friends wed (and for Sean, he also had Best Man duties to fulfill!) I was also dreading having to answer questions. Many people at the wedding were also present the night I got the call about my Dad. It was a lot. But, at the end of the day, life is not only about mourning loss, but celebrating love and joy. And it was so incredible to be one of the many people there to support John & Val, and shower them with support for a happy life together. The night created a host of new memories for us all to share (with a video made by John to prove it).
March 5th 2019
My father passed away just weeks before his 66th birthday. Nearly immediately after his death, my aunt and several others began asking the City of Welland to find a way to honour the man who so beautifully captured the town’s spirits in his artwork. Incredibly, they put together the perfect tribute. Thanks to the Welland Canal, the city has an iconic bridge, Bridge 13. Similar bridges have lined the Canal throughout its history, and my father used these bridges as many of his muses. So on what would have been his 66th birthday, the bridge was lit up in my father’s favourite colour – deep blue. All day it had been snowing, much to the chagrin of my mom. But ultimately, I like to think my dad made that happen. Because with the bridge surrounded by a fresh snowfall, it truly stood out. The dark night sky also helped give the bridge a brilliant glow. It was definitely eerie to see it, and know that it was for him. One of the most surreal moments of my life. It was another time, too, where I truly appreciated the mark my dad left because, as a friend pointed out, not many people will ever get honoured by their community in such a manner.
May 3rd 2019
This year I was able to get my mom to Toronto TWICE! If you know my mom, you’ll know that this is quite momentous. I was also able to take her to two concerts – Massive Attack in September, and Snow Patrol. This, like all things in 2019, was bittersweet. The Snow Patrol tickets were a Christmas gift to my parents. They had such a great time coming to visit us in 2017 to see Alt-J at Massey Hall, and I felt Snow Patrol would be a great band to take them to next. (And actually, mom and I saw Snow Patrol together back in 2012, where a then-unknown singer named Ed Sheeran opened for them!) But the day, despite the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, was still extremely memorable and joyful. My Aunt Lorraine joined my mom on the trip up to Toronto, and together we made it a really fun ladies night! I took them shopping downtown at Sonic Boom, and we hung out at my apartment. At dinner, MC joined us to complete the foursome. The concert was emotional, but it felt therapeutic to be there at the same time. I had a Budweiser for Dad during the show, and at some point I think most of us shed a few tears. It was certainly an emotional release that I needed, and we all know the power that music has to heal. (More on the concert itself to come in my annual Rankings!) And also, my mom and aunt definitely learned they’re still a couple of party animals. We went out for drinks after the concert, and even though I dropped them off at their hotel just after Midnight, those two stayed up well into the night laughing and partying at their hotel room! Needless to say, some naps were needed the next day!
July 15th 2019
I took a week off during the summer to spend an extended amount of time back in beautiful Niagara. One of my favourite childhood haunts is Rock Point Provincial Park. We spent many summer nights camping there, and many more days at the beach (even if it was just for the day). I could write an entire novel of happy memories from there! This day was my first time back in about six years. The shoreline was definitely a little beat up from the abornally wet spring, but the view of Lake Erie was just as I remember. As my mom always says, the water is very healing. And it was. It felt amazing to be in the sun, laughing with everyone, and listening to the waves. I know most will say nothing beats white sandy beaches along the ocean, but I’ll take Lake Erie any day of the week. I love days like this when you can reminisce, and feel like a kid again.
July 18th 2019
While I was home in the summer, my cousin Amber was insisting that I go try on wedding dresses. I was hesitant because we didn’t have the entire entourage with us. I didn’t want to leave anyone out of the process! So there we were, having a platter of BBQ for lunch when finally she wore me down. I agreed to go to Second Dance Bridal in St. Catharines just to, in her words, “toot around a little bit”. I wasn’t exactly feeling “bridal” after inhaling about three different types of meat, French fries and coleslaw, so I didn’t think we’d be successful finding a dress. After all, what were the odds my mom, Amber and I would find it at the first store? … Well… pretty good odds it turns out! After trying on about 6 or 7 dresses that clearly weren’t “the one”, the helpful store assistant Sam announced that she had one more dress for me try on. She told us it was her favourite dress the store had ever received, and that she thought I would love it. Amber hated it on the hanger, but I was having fun so I put it on. As soon as I stepped out of the dressing room it was game over. My mom started crying and we all slowly realized I was wearing “the dress”! And then we realized how much trouble we were going to be in because we were missing my Aunt Lorraine, my cousin Shauna, and my BFF Maid of Honour MC… but it was all worth it because the dress is stunning and I cannot wait to show Sean on our wedding day!
August 7th 2019
At the end of 2018 I joined WISE – Women in Sports & Events. It’s part of my efforts to help further my career and advance my contacts within the industry. And also, they host some really cool events. On this day, we lucked out. It was a Tennis themed event, taking place at the Rogers Cup, and as luck would have it, we’d get to see the legend, Serena Williams! But the main reason I was attending the event was because of the guest speaker – Stacey Allastar. Ms. Allaster is not only a fellow Wellander, but also part of a unique group. Allastar is one of five women from Welland, in the same age range, who went on to hold executive positions in sports management. See this article from the Toronto Star for the full scope (it’s really freaking cool actually.) For me, a career goal would be to be considered equal among those women. Allastar spoke a lot about the challenges women face working in sports. A lot of women leave the industry to start families, or find themselves pushed out of “boys clubs”. I was so inspired hearing her speak, and hearing about her journey. It re-energized me, and my passion for my career. And then, as the sun was setting, the cherry on top was getting to watch Serena Williams go to work. Another female who has overcome so much adversity, continues to battle her demons, but yet still strives to be the best. An incredibly empowering evening, and one I won’t soon forget.
August 24th 2019
Sometimes, some of the best nights are the simplest. We went down to Niagara to visit my mom and we spent the afternoon playing shuffle board in the backyard. That night, we ended up at the Nagy’s house for a bonfire. The Nagy’s are long-time friends of my parents, in fact, my Dad & Brian had been friends since childhood. I have countless memories of spending time with their daughters, making dumb homemade videos, bonfires in their backyard, Christmas parties, skating on their homemade ice rink, and camping together at Long Point Provincial Park. I can’t explain, but there was something extra special about this August night. The music Brian had selected was as if my Dad was the one curating the playlist. Old songs from albums I hadn’t heard in years sparked an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. And then, the fish fry started and we ate some of the most delicious fish tacos I have ever had in my life! The stars were shining bright, and the air was fresh. A cozy, comfortable night in Dain City.
September 19th 2019
I am pretty darn lucky. I work with an incredibly dedicated group of people, who bust their butts all year long. It’s hard to find someone at TSN who is underworked. And so when the TSN Fun Squad started the ball hockey tournament, it became a huge success because it provided us with a time to cool off, have some friendly (or not so friendly at times) competition, and have fun together. It’s important to be reminded why you get up every day and drag yourself out to Scarborough. My team, “Run PMC” (with the PMC standing for Programming-Marketing-Communications), didn’t make it to the playoffs (we lost a heartbreaker in the Round Robin), but it was still an awesome day under the sun. Some of us grabbed drinks afterwards on a nearby patio, and it felt like the perfect way to end summer. My 2020 goal: get the gang all together more often to share more laughs and give each other a chance to appreciate the incredible people we get to call coworkers.
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There’s many more days I could have, and wanted to write about, but when I reflect back on the year, these are some of the days I am most drawn to. Thanks for indulging me, and I hope you all get a chance to reflect back on your own 2019 experiences, good and bad.
As a preview of sorts for my annual concert rankings, here’s one of my favourite songs of 2019. Tame Impala released this song just before my birthday on March 22nd. I listened to it for the first time on the TTC as I made my way downtown to do a little shopping. I had to hold back tears because the lyrics felt like they were perfectly capturing how I had been feeling since February. I could also just picture my Dad blasting this song on his stereo. Despite the fact that it was making me cry, I often turn to this song for a pick-me up. It’s got a catchy disco-psychedelic beat that only Tame Impala can pull off.
2019 certainly hasn’t gone the way I hoped it would. On December 21st 2018, when Sean asked me to marry him, I expected 2019 to become one of the best years of my life. Instead, on February 8th 2019, things took an awful turn. My father died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 65. A regular Friday evening turned horrific.
I’ve debated for months about whether to blog about my grief, the anxiety I’ve experienced, and just the general confusion about day to day life. I have countless drafts saved. Part of me didn’t want to be so public with my inner thoughts, but then recently I decided I had too many things I wanted to share. There’s a lot of lessons you don’t fully learn and realize until you say goodbye to one of the key difference makers in your life.
I’m going to break up these blog posts and focus on some specific emotions, and feelings I’ve dealt with. I feel there’s too much to say in just one post, so I hope you’ll bear with me as I get this all out of my system.
Shock & Awe
I know a lot of people talk about how they can barely remember certain aspects of a life changing moment, but I feel like I can recite in pretty clear detail everything I said and felt in the immediate aftermath of my aunt calling to tell me the horrible news. There are many times where I catch myself going over that night in detail. It’s like I need to remind myself that this is reality. I try to stop myself in those moments. After all, I don’t want my lasting memories of my dad to be of that fateful night.
When you’re in such deep shock it’s hard to find the energy to keep up with the rest of your life. I find that over the past several months I haven’t been as engaged with my friends, and have often felt like I don’t have the capacity to support them in their own struggles. As I reflect on this summer, I know I’ve become more withdrawn than I normally would. I’ve skipped going to concerts because I would rather be alone at home. Or, I’ve purposefully avoided making plans with people because sometimes the idea of being social is too exhausting. I felt this way after the robbery in South Africa as well. When you’re moving away from a trauma, it’s hard to see when others around you may be suffering as well. Your own pain and confusion takes precedent and it becomes hard to focus on everything else. But I am starting to regret some of this. As summer begins to wind down, I am starting to feel like I wasted some of my days. (Regret is a theme I’ll touch on in another post).
I’ve so often felt like a zombie, or as my mom has often observed, we go through the days feeling like actors in our own lives. That we’re just playing a role. Going to work felt like that at first (and sometimes still does). I could put on my management hat and forget that I was the girl dealing with grief. But then reality would sink in. I’ve had times where I’ve cried on the TTC, or on my walk home. It can be anything. A thought, a memory, seeing the stars, a song coming on my Spotify. And then the haze comes back. Everything starts to feel surreal again, and the pain gets pushed down until the next time it resurfaces. I open my office door, turn on the computer, and begin to play my role.
One of the things I’ve been struggling with the most as it relates to my health anxiety is how truly fragile everything is. I can’t wrap my brain around just how suddenly you can lose someone. When I get caught in the shock, the questions rise up. Why now? Why this way? How do you just wake up one day and not know it’s your last day on earth? I find it incredibly terrifying to think of how quickly everything can be lost. How can there be no warning? No time to say goodbye? Why does it have to be so random? For me, when I can’t make sense of things I get very uncomfortable. My anxiety loves order and reason. Death is neither of those things. And so at times it’s caused me to spiral into some anxious times where I begin to fear those old fears – that I have cancer, that something is wrong with my heart, that I am going to die young and will miss out on everything.
I guess, that’s supposed to be the good lesson in all of this – the reminder that life is short and tomorrow is not promised. It’s supposed to make you appreciate the little things more, cross things off your bucket list, or finally make that move in your life you’ve been putting off. But there are so many times I feel frozen in fear. Whenever we make a new decision on something related to the wedding I get a little bit scared. “What if I don’t make it to my wedding and all of this is a waste?”. But I can’t let the shock do that to me. I know, deep down, I can’t live in fear constantly. I know that Dad wasn’t afraid of what was next. He often talked about how he didn’t fear death. It was the next adventure, the next part of the journey. It was something to be curious about. He also told me people with control issues tend to be the ones who fear death the most. As usual, he was right.
One thing I am thankful for in regards to my anxiety is that I feel it’s made me quite self-aware. I can recognize when I am withdrawing, or not supporting other people. But it’s hard to often do something about it. Especially when I’m trying to do things like be on my phone less, read more, and trying to get through the day. Throw in that work has been incredibly busy, and it just feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day to often tackle everything.
So what can I do? What can anyone do going through grief? I think it goes back to what one of the nurses told my mom that night. “You take things minute by minute, hour by hour”. Eventually the fog will begin to clear. I’ll find a way to stop trying to make sense of what happened, and just accept it. The sting will wear off.
With each of these posts I will close with a song that reminds of me Dad. They may or may not relate to each post. They just might be songs currently running through my mind. As I wrote this post I was listening to Kate Bush and the “Hounds of Love” album. Dad used to blast this album in our home when I was little, and together he and I would dance and sing around the house to it. So while I navigate all of this confusion, I know one thing is true. Somewhere, he’s up there in The Big Sky. Thanks for reading.
I’ve been trying to write a new blog post for about a month now. I have about three half finished posts, just sitting in my Drafts. I thought as we all reel from the news of Gord Downie, and grapple with one more amazing person about to be lost to cancer, that perhaps this was the post I needed to finish, and share with you all.
Late in April, I said goodbye to my “Granny”. She was a fierce woman, and a personality that my family will miss dearly. It was my first time losing an immediate family member. I’ve been very fortunate. I am very uncomfortable with death, and am so grateful that up until now, I’ve only had to go to a handful of funerals and memorials. I know others have not been so lucky.
But one absolutely positive thing to come out of the heartbreak of losing Granny is that death gives perspective. It forces you to pause, and reflect. You suddenly become acutely aware of your place in the universe, and what you’ll leave behind.
As we cleaned out my grandmother’s things from the nursing home, my cousin spoke about how you just leave “stuff” behind, and what matters is the memories that your loved ones have of you. Of course we always see quotes that like when we scroll across our social media news feeds, but until you’re there, cleaning out the home of a dead loved one, that message really doesn’t sink in. The clothes I worry about on a day to day basis, will eventually just get donated or turned to rags. No one will remember that I accidentally wore a stained shirt one day to work. Certainly no one cares at this moment that when I first moved to Toronto I really had no idea what the word “style” really meant. It’s also true of the items we fill our homes with.
So from those little “ah-ha” moments during that time, I am trying to get back to loving myself more, and forgiving myself. I say this all too often, but I waste so much time being hard on myself. There’s so much I can’t control. But I have such a hard time dealing with that. I need to be in control. I’m impatient. I’m a perfectionist. I also have a pretty good memory, and I remember what I looked like when I was in better shape. It’s hard to forget that. I don’t feel proud of my body right now. So I need to work on getting that back.
Aside from the feelings associated with my body, dealing with a death always triggers a lot of deeper anxiety for me. I have a real problem with death. It terrifies me. I have so many fears. I have days where I am convinced of the Afterlife and that something awaits, but then others I think that can’t be possible, and that there really isn’t anything beyond this life. My mind starts to think “how can there be heaven if we have so much suffering? What is the point of creating a world where depending on where you live you might have a great life, or a really, really horrible one?”, and it goes on and on.
But really, I am just scared to say goodbye to the people I love and care about. My family means the world to me, and I can’t bear to think of saying goodbye to everyone. Change doesn’t allow me to be in control. When suddenly that one person won’t be at Christmas Dinner anymore, I get so anxious thinking about how different things will be. How will I cope without certain people? I suppose you could call it the world’s worst case of “FOMO” as well. I get sick thinking about all the things I could miss out on one day, especially if I die young.
My Granny & I
So how do you become more comfortable with the idea of death? For me, the only way would be knowing with 1000000% certainty that an Afterlife exists, and that YES you get reunited with everyone. That’s the controlling nature in me, the anxiety that needs ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY. But that doesn’t exist in life. Maybe what losing Granny has also taught me is that in addition to spending time working on my mental health, I need to work on my spiritual health. Because the day will come when I will have an even more devastating death to mourn, and I want to make sure I can get through.
And then, with some of the roots of my anxiety laid bare, we return to the original point of this post. Only the memories are what matter. The relationships you forge – whether it’s family, friends, animal companions, whatever, that is what transcends everything else. I can’t take six pack abs with me to the Afterlife, and certainly they won’t be on display at a memorial. (Seriously, have you ever seen anyone’s ACTUAL body at a funeral? Another reason I should stop worrying about what my stomach looks like). Sure, you can be remembered for being an active, athletic person, but is that why people truly love you? Is it the only reason they’ll always be there for you? Odds are, no.
So with that being said, it’s about doing what all of those internet quotes tell you to do: “Live. Laugh. Love”. With doing that, hopefully I can find peace and eventually accept that one day, everything will be out of my control.
Thank you, as always, for reading and of course, share any advice you may have for myself or others.
tesla may 