The saddest part of life might be this:
It doesn’t really matter how much you miss someone if they don’t miss you back. Or can’t miss you, which I’m hoping is the case.
If ever there was a case for a higher place of happy consciousness, I’d vote for the reality to be somewhere between real and now.
It would be ok to be the one left behind if I could be truly comforted by the many similar ways grief experts and hospice nurses describe standard (if a bit purported) euphoric crossover.
I’m not sure I purchase such euphemistic explanations for pre-death, last-breath smile phenomenon suggesting memory flare for the fondest memories, the happiest space in a lifetime.
I am finding it necessary to welcome the numbness, embrace the cloak, wield the shield as tightly as possible, deflect.
There is no other way to move forward without pain, if there is importance in moving forward. Lacking in the past, there is it now. An inkling.
I used to not want to be the last one standing. Suddenly, I know I can afford to bear the most, and cause others less, pain.
There is no saving from pain, but there is consideration, which this loss lacked. To me it seems, the way out is just that.
Just because there is an arrowed sign, doesn’t mean you have to disembark.
Immediate or indiscernible, there are always alternative paths, alternate timing, other unforced exits.
Always. Unless, I’m wrong or we’re all wrong, and the highway just ends where it should, when it should.
Quote for the Week:
Enjoy this Week’s Discovery Links:
Two Big Myths About Grief: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/grief-without-tears/