We sat a vigil last night as watched, waiting, as our nephew passed. Life is like that: Life goes on and then it doesn’t. My wife is downstairs…sweeping, just to keep herself occupied. Bob Marley is turned up to 11, and I can still hear her sobbing as I write this through my tears.
I can’t do a reading for tomorrow, or Thursday. I might be able to put out a Locksley chapter, because that’s already written, but I can’t do much more than that. STORIES, AFTER EIGHT will have to be on hold because, again, I can’t read without breaking down in tears.
So forgive me for pulling the plug for a bit, but if you’ve gone through this yourself, you’ll more than understand — and we all go through this at some point.
Processing this event will take time, and even then there will be a part missing from your life. The fact you were there, together… was more than a lot of people are able to do - and by no means an I belittling those who for whatever reason cannot sit and wait for someone to cross the veil - it is hard, it is a front row seat to mortality, it can devastate some.
The best we can do is be there for one another in the tough times. Put aside our anger at the unfairness, cope as we are able, but most importantly - love each other, especially your life mate. In that love you will find solace, hope and the rain we are here. Lose yourself in love when you can, it will give you strength to stand to all the things that come after the moment a family member passes - no matter if it’s a blood relative or a close friend you have chosen to be part of your extended family.
Know you have so many people here who care, and so many more beyond this data built walls, aka out in the real world. Don’t be afraid to give voice to your needs, and never apologize for what grief needs in terms of time off from regular day to day events.
Cherish each other. Go to her, take her hands, look into her eyes and tell her how much you love her, that you are here for her and how lucky you are to find solace in her love for you in this time of soul wrenching hardship. Sometimes you need to remind each other of your commitments. Be well.
My condolences to you and your family, Ben. Be well.