Coming back from yet another funeral, it hits me over and over that our time here is limited, and if I don’t take life in urgency, I am merely taking up space. Looking at Facebook nowadays feels like reading the obituary as more and more people around me cease to be. As much as I have given up news, my consumption of social media has not spared me from the world, and I realize now that I get to limit myself.
It felt good to give up news in the traditional sense, yet reading about loss and other things happening the world along with the person’s political leaning gives it a sharper edge. I write all these words to avoid the feeling of loss pervading me and my friends. Dear friends lost a sibling, parents their child, and so many others a kind soul and amazing times. We walk around in a daze, but the ones who suffered the deeper loss, I cannot even pretend to imagine their pain.
Getting old sucks, but what’s worse is the realization that death will become a constant companion now. And there just is no way to pretend that loss does not hurt, does not hollow you, does not make you feel like a lesser version of you. The words don’t fit the hole created, feel lifeless against the pain of losing someone dear, creating space inside the heart that’s like an emptiness of ache. I don’t want to attend any more funerals, don’t want to grieve or see my loved ones faces etched with emotional pain, don’t want to know one more person gone from this world but alive in our hearts and minds.
Loss is never easy, but even more so when it’s sudden. When it feels random, senseless, and just not fair. And so I sit with it, hoping, praying for the pain to ease for the family and make sure to be there, to not make them feel any more alone than they already do. And to take it day by day.