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The Journey Back to Sanity

Grief. A single word that conjures up sadness, empathy, and a myriad of emotions. Synonymous with sorrow, grief is universally understood regardless of language, country of origin, or culture. Like unexpectedly veering off the road at high speed, grief is a major detour from life’s somewhat normal journey. A sudden departure from the routine usually due to a traumatic event or loss, one can quickly become engulfed in the quagmire of heartache. And the journey back to even the slightest semblance of normalcy, let alone sanity,  is long and arduous. Over the past year, I’ve read many quotes about grief. Here are a select few that resonated with me:

      “The reality is you will grieve forever.”
      “But grief is a walk alone.”
      “Grief is like a shadow. It follows me. Even on sunny days there is a spot of the darkness around me.”
      “Grief is love’s shadow. The absence of presence. An unbearable weight of emptiness.”
      “Going on living - that’s the hardest thing about grief.”

I could go, but you get the point. Nearly a year ago, I said goodbye to my truest and most faithful companion, Rose, a black lab. My life hasn’t been the same. How could it be? With each passing month, I recalled what life was like just a year prior, when she was still alive. From February 11, 2023 until September 5, 2023, I worked from home due to breaking my ankle skydiving. It’s funny in a way. While many might consider that incident to be in my Top Ten Worst Moments, it wasn’t. In fact, it was far from it. Ironically, it was perhaps one of the best moments of my life. Although I sustained a serious injury that took me well over a year from which to recover, it was in no way a bad experience. From the moment I landed hard and felt the snap of my ankle, through two surgeries, physical therapy, and the months limping with a boot, I never felt any pain. 

Certainly, I was disappointed that I had flared too late and would have to delay my skydiving adventures, but I remained positive. Grateful to be alive, I was never discouraged. My injury was minor in comparison to what it could have been. The time spent working from home passed too quickly. Only in retrospect did I appreciate the time I had with Rose, my constant companion, who laid under the desk every day. That was her place, her spot, all day, every day. She was always by my side. 

She couldn’t talk, but she was a great listener. Somehow she always seemed to know my emotional needs. And those eyes! I found so much peace and understanding in them, more than I’ve ever found in a person. Some people don’t believe dogs can smile. Well, they’re wrong! Rose smiled a lot! In fact, I think sometimes she even laughed. 

What a way to live life! To live in the moment, live to love and be loved, to smile, laugh, and enjoy being alive without anxiety or worry. That’s what Rose did. She was content in her routines, content to just be with me, content to be loved and be part of a family. Grief sucks! Some liken it to a wound that’s healed but has left a scar. Maybe that’s true for some people but not me. No, grief is like a cut that never heals, that elicits pain and brings tears to my eyes from the slightest touch, or sometimes from just staring at it. Grief is perpetual, enduring the test of time, mocking me, taunting me, an ever present reminder of loss, of what once was but is no longer. Death gives birth to grief, which lives on in life’s absence, a constant, unwanted companion. A thief, it robs the joy of the present and slowly devours the soul. 

Perhaps one quote captured it best: “I say I miss you all the time but that doesn’t quite cover it. You are missing from my world and there aren’t any words to describe how truly difficult it is most days to exist without you. It gets better but even that has it own hurt too…” This time of the year is especially difficult and brings its own sadness due to the loss of family members, friends, and traditions that made the holidays special. Add to that the absence of my greatest companion and the journey back to sanity or  anything that resembles normal is all but impossible. 

Grief is life’s unseen shadow. Remaining hidden and out of sight, not making its grand entrance until life ends. This fleeting thing we call life and cling to so desperately evaporates little by little, day by day. We remain blissfully ignorant, unaware it is slowly ebbing away. Shakespeare lamented, 

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace until from day to day to the last   syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out,  brief candle. Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound a fury, signifying nothing.” 

Perhaps he was right. Maybe this transient thing called life is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. In the end, it might have little if any meaning. What significance will my life have decades from now? Who will even remember me or recall my name? Willy could indeed be onto something. However, that brief flicker of life’s flame burns hot, it endures for a time, and provides light for all the poor players until it eventually burns out. But it is during that time our shadows live. A single act on life’s stage is what gives us meaning, provides value, and makes our tale worth telling. When it’s over, the curtain is lowered, and only memories remain. 

Grief begins when memories can no longer be made, when time runs out, and the candle loses its flame. It is enduring and ever-lasting, what some refer to as a ‘new normal.’ Such a term is a slap in the face. There’s no such thing as a new normal. How can there be? Oh, there might be an adjusted normal based on circumstance, but it’s not a new normal per se. Normal is what once existed but is no longer. Anything else is an adjustment or alternation, not ‘new.’ Which is why the journey back to sanity is all but impossible. Try as one might, grief will walk by one’s side every step of the way, tripping you up whenever possible. Grief is a bitch, a nightmare that never ends.

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