For the past three years, I haven’t taken the time to just ‘be’. In fact, I’ve done quite the opposite.
When I was a little girl, I got a taste of salty air early on.
And since then, I’ve always wanted to live by the sea. My friends blathered on and on about hurricanes and the like, but even that couldn’t deter me. I wanted it. And finally, after 12 months straight of classes (don’t ever take 12 credit hours during an 8.5-week summer session, trust me!) and graduating with my first college degree just last week, I’ve made that dream a reality. My friend Kimberly has built a beautiful house here on the coast of North Carolina and has been gracious enough to let me live here for a few months. I’ve come to think of it as a trial run.
The house is large and beautifully decorated (she has an eye for it!
Very much in my taste (great minds think alike when it comes to décor). The dog has settled in quite nicely. Much better than I would have expected since he’s 10 years old and recovering from knee surgery. I, however, am now a few weeks into this new adventure and yesterday, homesickness made its first appearance. It’s not that I miss the place I’ve lived most of my life. I don’t miss the small-town-everyone-knows-everything-about-everyone feel. I miss my friends the most. And the familiarity of my condo that’s being lovingly occupied by a close friend who is in the throes of a divorce. I came here to take a break from the drama of everyday life, yes. I came here to nurture myself, yes. I came here to rest, no doubt about it because my soul is weary and oh-so-tired. But the honest to goodness truth is this: I came here to grieve.
Over the last 18 months, ‘loss’ has been an all too common denominator in my life.
I ended a 19-year marriage and signed over a house that still has my touch all over it. My friend Erik tragically took his life in April 2015. His funeral was the same day as my divorce hearing. And I barely made it to Nashville in time to say goodbye. My friend Randy, who was just a couple of years older than I am, became gravely ill out of nowhere. And then he passed away leaving a wife, four kids and a host of devastated people behind.
Sadly, a few months after Randy died, my friend, Kara also left the earthly realm—you guessed it—unexpectedly. But isn’t death always unexpected, even when we can anticipate its arrival? And last but certainly not least, I reconnected with a man who has been a significant part of my story for many years only to part with him yet again in the most unimaginable way this past March…barely a month after Kara’s funeral.
Yes. I’ve come here to grieve.
Grief often comes in waves, when we least expect it.
And part of grieving means being still, which is a skill I have yet to learn. I need this respite. I need to nourish my own soul for a change. I need to be still so I can let go, whatever that means. Quite frankly, I’m not entirely sure how one heals from months and months of pure devastation and disappointment. But I do know that when I look back on all the painful moments of my life thus far, grief has always been a tremendous opportunity for personal growth. And somehow, I’ve always come out on the other side of those times a better, stronger woman.
So if you happen to be struggling with grief just like I am (any kind of loss is a loss, don’t discount that), I want to offer you the hope that even though grief hurts like hell, it doesn’t kill us, even when we wish it would.
And speaking of hope, that rock sits in my flower garden back home in Tennessee.
It cracked a long time ago, but a little cement glue was all it took to make it not-as-good-as-new. That crack, as well as the small piece missing, reminds me that life isn’t always happy and sometimes, gets broken. That grief, no matter how much we despise it, is a necessary part of living. And that a shattered heart mends even if we aren’t the same after we’ve metaphorically glued it back together again. For all of us who grieve, my deepest desire is that we can allow ourselves to be vulnerable just enough to find the courage to heal.
I am the voice of Truly Madly Sassy and currently reside on the coast of North Carolina with my dog Snickers. I’m a full-time social work major, a most-of-the-time writer, a part-time mermaid, and a self-proclaimed princess. I’m a lover of all things chocolate, a staunch Starbucks addict, a sap for Rumi’s poetry, and a tried-and-true believer in happily ever after.
“I can’t believe I am only now finding the time to sit down and read your blog. I started with the last page and am working my way up! Oh my gosh, Kristi it’s so good! I’m glad you finally decided to start it. My entire weekend is going be nothing but Truly Madly Sassy!”
Ha! Thanks Miranda. It’s a work in progress 🙂
“It’s so important to take time off from time to time and just be yourself and relax. We all need it and I found that I need to do this every 3-4 months. I usually take 7-10 days off from any work related activities and just go on a trip with my family; sometimes in the mountains, other times near the ocean. This stimulates me and recharges my batteries and it also seemingly takes years off my face as I’ve been told by other people. They often say that I look 5 years younger after these trips and I honestly feel that way.”
“I feel the very same way, Sydney. Everybody needs a break from the everyday monotony of life. I think the people in Europe know how to do it if you ask me: they usually take months-long holidays lol!”
I found your blog on google when I searched things about grief. Spot on. Thanks for posting it. I can relate.
“Thanks for stopping in, Angie. Grief has become a dirty-five-letter-word in my book over the last two years, but unfortunately, it’s part of living. Wishing you nothing but goodness as you continue your own healing. Take good care!”
“Well its been 2 years since the love of my life’ since my babys father committed suicide’ the one person I need right now’ just ain’t there for me, I mean, I’m really falling apart’ my heart is torn and I’ve tried so hard to be strong’ even 2 years later my heart still hasn’t healed’ how do you stop dwelling I can’t shake what has broken me.”
“I am so sorry for your loss. I can’t possibly know what that feels like, but I’ve lost family before, family that I was very close to. Just be strong and focus on the good things in life.”
“I just read your post and I am just astounded by how strong you are! I just love how you love so well honey, you have to know you’re amazing.”
“Thank you Sarah! One of the things I always ask myself is “”Did I love him/her well enough”” — I appreciate the sentiment. I try very hard to love others the way I would like to be loved in return. Thing about it is, I’m either all in or all out…there’s never an in-between. Thank you so much for stopping in to read the blog. I always look forward to your comments! <3"
“Wow you have been through a lot in the past few years. I have had my own kind of grief the last few years and losing anyone is hard. Writing about it like you do is healing. It is part of living, but one that is hard to go through.”
“Thank you for your comment, Mandy! My mamaw used to say “”we are born only to die”” — I found it morbid as a young adult, but realize it’s the truth!”
“Wow, what a beautiful message. Your words are so inspiring and for someone who has recently dealt with a loss these words are also encouraging and hopeful. Thank you for sharing.”
“I so appreciate your comments, Melissa. Please feel free to stop in anytime!”