the ebb and flow of long-held grief
- trigger warning - (reflections on grief and a brief sharing of a specific situation of losing my best friend in a sudden accident many years ago)
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It's been 21 years.
That's a very long time. There's been a lot of life lived in that time. That thought stirs the grief pot as well, however, because in those 21 years, so much of what could have been was taken, her life taken too early.
My being pulls towards this day, silently, subtly, before I am even aware. I wake up every year on the 14th of January and wonder why I feel weird rolling out of bed - off - and casually checking the time. I see the date, and then it all makes sense.
Long-held grief is a unique experience. It's not an open wound, raw and sensitive, sore to the touch and something you instinctively want to move away from. Instead, it's that slightly raised scar on your body, one you feel and are familiar with, used to being there, and still struck by how foreign it is and how it doesn't belong.
the story
21 years ago, it was the start of winter term at college; my best friend had surprised me just two weeks prior with the news that she would be joining me at the college for the coming term. I was already a year and a half into my program, and it was a wonderful surprise and joy for us both to be in the same place and have some time together.
12 days. We had 12 days together.
Her and I and a couple friends from the college were going to head to a nearby town for an afternoon away from the college. As we were about to leave, I decided to stay back as I had a lot of work to do from the start of term. She pleaded with me to come on the short trip as it "will so much fun to get away for a bit" and we laughed about how much of a stressed nerd I was.
and that was my last conversation with her. They hit black ice on the highway, and two of the three of them died on impact.
grief's path
Grief has a unique quality to run adjacent and under the surface of life. New griefs - of any degree - that are experienced suddenly plunge you into this stream anew. Every grief you have touched seems to wake up and arise again, fresh and hot. There is this delicate balance between the well-worn paths of grief and the fresh, hot sear of it.
If you have experienced grief - of any kind - be kind to yourself. There is no predictable pattern to grief. It takes courage to sit at the edge of that expansive water and let the ebb and flow of grief move as it will.
You've got this.