I plant roots so deeply in the people I love that I always lose a piece of myself when they go.
Do you have a favorite aphorism on loss, too? Or do you choose to collect fragments from different stories and piece them together to create a source of relief when you feel particularly alone and confused?
I have a collection of bits and pieces myself, all of which come in especially handy today.
I lost a friend five years ago, and I lost another today. I still echo the same sentiments and questions I voiced out the first time it happened. What is it like, coming to terms with the fact that you’ve really and truly reached the end of your life? Does God allow you to ask questions? What did you tell Him the minute you came face to face with Him? Was your heart filled with sadness or was it bursting with joy? Did you smile when you drew your final breath? Could I have made it all better, had I been more diligent in physically being there and sending you daily reminders of how much I cared?
I hope it is beautiful where you are. I hope your heart is filled with peace, and that peace rains on those of us who want to heal from all the losses we’ve accumulated.
When you lose people and your heart breaks, you feel like there’s no point in trying again or keeping an open mind about, well, everything. We get so caught up in our own anguish that we forget how short life really is. I think you should just love and love despite the scars and bruises. Just love and forgive and fill your life with stories worth retelling. We owe it to the ones who have gone ahead of us, the ones who have faced what the rest of us can only wonder about while we’re still here. We owe it to ourselves.
In between the writing tasks I’m supposed to be working on, I sometimes find myself absent-mindedly going through my old blogs, including drafts I thought I had discarded. This includes the Notes feature on Facebook which I just finished browsing now (because I found out that someone actually plagiarized an old blog entry. Honestly, why?). As I was adjusting the privacy settings of each post, I came across a poem that dated back to 2010. I didn’t have the heart to delete it. It was such a beautiful reminder, one all too familiar; one that didn’t sting as much as it used to. There I was, feeling like I was floating on my back, eyes fixed on flashbacks of survival, foolishness, innocence, despair … all of which brought about the poignant and dreamy tone of those carelessly scribbled lines.
So much for completely obliterating the so-called fragments. I do keep these things close to my heart now, especially since I have learned more than I bargained for. After all, “nothing ventured, nothing gained,” right? Anyway. I, then, snapped out of my daydream and watched the gear icon change to a padlock as I tweaked the settings, keeping it locked away, as certain things are destined to be.
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
The afternoon was calm and the sky, prettier than usual, was decked with faint, white clouds and flock after flock sailing past. It was quiet and it was perfect and it hadn’t felt that way in a really long time.
And I could not dream up a better way to begin the new year.
My utopian Sunday began with a prayer, of course, like each day should. The coffee seemed sweeter and warmer, and the sunshine more vibrant than ever. A few hours into the day and it was time to prepare for our agenda: hunting for succulents and flowers, and mass.
Perhaps it was the gorgeous display of fireworks from the night before, or the glass of wine I consumed before bed, but my mood was just fixed on the rose-colored side (a mindset I usually couldn’t maintain for long, but that was then and this is now).
I’d like to believe that that perfect day just set the tone for the year ahead.
Around this time last year, I promised to be more diligent in updating my blog and to fill it with as much compelling content as possible. A few months into fulfilling that promise and I impulsively decided to delete all the entries right at the moment I realized they were all singing tunes of the past. Writing has always been my outlet but sometimes, it tends to hold me back, most especially when I zone out and unknowingly allow myself to be carried by the current of past experiences. During more serious conversations on life and learning, I always reiterate how essential our past experiences are in shaping us. However, it’s quite different when, instead of looking back with fondness and gratitude, we instead become restless and dwell on what could have been done and how the present would be had things transpired differently. That is precisely why I decided to wipe out everything and start fresh. For the nth time, I am starting with a clean slate. Isn’t it beautiful how we have countless opportunities to begin again?
Continue reading “December 28, 2016”