As time moves further out from Pete’s death, I’m moving from my own deep grieving period to a more morose existence. And perhaps my own loss has put me in the space, but I’m seeing more and more people going through it. A friend has been kind enough to lend me her cabin in the woods last weekend, but warned she may or may not be around because her mother was scheduled to have surgery for breast cancer. My co-worker Stephanie broke into tears a while ago as she told me about her cousin’s recent death from breast cancer. Today I ran into an acquaintance that told me of his adopted aunt’s death and problems in his family since then. A while back, a classmate posted that her daughter’s father was murdered as well.
My loss hurt like hell, but it feels good to be of support to other people as they deal with their own loss. Perhaps it’s just that I’m getting older and that when you’re in your late 30’s death becomes more frequent. Obviously colleagues, friends, and relatives are older now. In my teens and twenties, death certainly happened, it was just rare. But now it seems like it’s so regular. Now I feel like we’re all just stuck here, trying to make sense of our pain. And we all work through it, the best way we know how. But the second you pull back, just a little bit, it opens up again.
This blog has been my solace. I’m amazed at the regular visitors I get here. I can’t help but to think that I must be boring the hell out of them as I go on and on about Pete. But I need this. It’s been kind of crazy to read back on my varying emotions since Pete died. Most moments I’m only a brief thought from tears again. But I hold it together. Just like the loss of Tracey the then the loss of Jarronn, I’ll learn to live with this pain. But if there is any solace to be found, it is that I can use this to help others through this same thing. We’ve got to support one another in this. We’re all we’ve got.