Am I the only one here that remains stuck? Doesn’t see it as others do? Cannot comprehend what others are going through? When it happened to me, to my family, it wasn’t
the end of the world, just a changed world – a different place. Though, I’m sure it’s different for some
people, since there are many drastically different ways of this happening. But yet, here I am, trying to find words to
explain how I feel, or rather, how I should feel, but nothing comes to mind. I’m stuck in awkwardness, and the line in
front of me is slowly getting shorter. I
gulp down my own saliva and flatten my wet palms against my pants. I think I’m more nervous than they are sad.
I breathe deeply to try to calm myself. I play words over and over in my head, but
nothing feels right, it all feels fake, forced.
Am I really sorry? I’m sorry that
they are feeling sad, but you can’t say that – you can’t say “Sorry you’re
upset,” that sounds horrible. Why did I
come here in the first place? To be
respectful? Show that I care? The words that will come out of my mouth will
show me for who I am, a fake, a fraud, a cheat.
I want someone to come pull me out of line, snag me and say “Have some
water, you look like you’re going to pass out,” but there’s no hope for
that.
I think it has gotten ten degrees hotter since I’ve been
standing in line. The humidity is so
thick that I can barely breathe. I’m
next, oh crap, what do I say? How do I
tell them that I hope things get better, because of course they don’t think
that’s going to happen, of course they don’t want to hear it. No one really wants to hear it. I shuffle my feet like everyone else in front
of me did and bow my head towards the family members in front of me. I hold out my clammy hand and say, “I’m so
sorry for your loss.” They reply with
thank you and empty nods of heads, empty handshakes. That didn’t help them at all.
I shuffle away, wishing I had said something better, wishing
I could let them know that they will be together again – this isn’t the end of
the line. Life is ongoing, it’s continuous,
but no one can see it when it happens to them.
They can’t know that tomorrow will be the same, but different. That the person is still around, their energy
still floating, in a safe space that we cannot touch. They still feel for us, and we still feel for
them. They are not gone, they are not
lost, they are certainly not forgotten, never forgotten. I’m sorry for your loss just doesn’t do it
justice.
------
I always feel so awkward at funerals or wakes. I view death as a change of life, a next step, a different part - but I don't see it as a loss - and yes, when it happens really close to me, I'm sure I'll feel differently. However, I like to believe it continues beyond what we can see. So, I always feel weird, strange. Even the one for my grandmother, I didn't feel a particular loss - which is horrible sounding, but I viewed it as her finally moving on, since her brain had already done such (Alzheimer's). I saw it as a blessing for her, no longer having to live in the nightmare of her own mind. She was scared half of the time, which is no way to live. With that being said, I am sorry for my co-worker's loss, but I truly believe she's in a better place. But I'm sorry for your loss just doesn't do it justice...
------
I always feel so awkward at funerals or wakes. I view death as a change of life, a next step, a different part - but I don't see it as a loss - and yes, when it happens really close to me, I'm sure I'll feel differently. However, I like to believe it continues beyond what we can see. So, I always feel weird, strange. Even the one for my grandmother, I didn't feel a particular loss - which is horrible sounding, but I viewed it as her finally moving on, since her brain had already done such (Alzheimer's). I saw it as a blessing for her, no longer having to live in the nightmare of her own mind. She was scared half of the time, which is no way to live. With that being said, I am sorry for my co-worker's loss, but I truly believe she's in a better place. But I'm sorry for your loss just doesn't do it justice...