I almost fell over when I logged on tonight to post and realized it has been 2.5 years since I’ve posted. Ummm What?
Yeah. Okay. I get it. The years, y’all. The goddamn years! They are both the tortoise and the hare.
I could sit here and give you a million and twelve reasons as to why I haven’t written. It would be easy – I’ve had to give those reasons verbally several times a week for ages. I used to think that it was because I was too busy. Or because I was too tired. Or because it was too hard. Or because it felt too indulgent. All of that is 100% true. It is also 100% bullshit.
I didn’t write because I didn’t want to. I had shared much and gotten unbelievable support, but it didn’t make anything feel better. So the more I talked or wrote about it, the more desperate it felt. The more attention seeking. And it still didn’t ease the pain. So there I was, a desperate attention seeking victim without answers.
If you know me at all, you know that there’s really not much worse I could be. Desperate? gross. Attention seeking? get over yourself ffs. Victim? Don’t even get me started.
But then people I loved started losing people they love. Over and over again I would get the call. And then people I didn’t even know would lose someone and my inbox would blow up.
Keep writing, they said.
We need your words, they said.
Can you get me a discount on a Harley-Davidson, they asked.
Oh come on. You didn’t honestly think I wouldn’t call out the assholes, did you?
In a couple of weeks, it will be 5 year since Brian died. I look at my life often these days and realize that probably 90% of the amazing things I have in my life right now would never ever be a part of my life had Brian not died. I also think about how stressful things are now. And how this stress is a million times more manageable than the stress of life as it was when he was alive. I don’t know that I’ve ever been more proud of myself. Of my children. Of what we have created. Of who we are. We wouldn’t have done any of this had he not died.
But how I miss him! The tears flow without warning. So does the rage.
I don’t need Brian.
I don’t need Alfredo sauce, either.
But life is better with both.
These days I mix anger and pride and grief and joy and indifference into one large daily vitamin. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but it feeds me. It teaches me. And I grow.
I am 5. And this is my life.