Last weekend, I went to a Celebration of Life in honor of an extraordinary human. She passed away in October but, due to covid, her family held off on a more public memorial until it was safer to gather. It happened to be her birthday as well. Friends and family came together and it was packed. The family scheduled it to start at 10ish am, and they had asked certain people to speak and share stories before opening it up to everyone else wishing to speak about her. Between speakers and songs, it lasted well over two and a half hours, during which I felt myself vacillate between crying and laughing out loud about her antics over the years.
I have to be honest, I don't like being sad. I try to push through it because I know I can be plunged into a pit that's difficult for me to climb out of. For that and other reasons, I was dreading this event. I knew I needed to be there but I feared the emotional toll it would take.
However, after the more formal celebration of life, I went back to her house with friends and family and we talked and ate and drank and laughed together. By the time I left, I was totally drained but felt oddly calm and even happy, and the reason was simply this: there was so much love for her, and by extension, for each other.
One of the very strange things that happens after loss is that we see how much the deceased person was loved. People come out of the proverbially woodwork, especially if the death was sudden or unexpected. I saw this happen after Bill died and I found myself hoping that he knew how much he was loved while he was here. And, I realized how many people loved me and wanted to help. There are always those "So sorry, let me know if you need anything" people but I don't mean them - I mean the ones who really, fully show up with love. The ones who text every few days just to see if we're still functioning. The ones who show up to help us sort through our loved one's clothes, or help us pack up to move, or drop off a bag of unexpected groceries.
Honestly, it's humbling but it's something that I forced myself to accept and internalize and in doing so, I really was able to live again. Instead of losing Bill's love, I realized there was a huge bubble of love surrounding both of us that was cushioning the blow. Internalizing that love also makes our time here that much more meaningful and worthwhile. Connecting to others and showing our love sustains us, and hopefully we can accept that on a daily basis, not just when catastrophe strikes.
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