Real (Kara)
December 02, 2017
How many untitled documents can a person have? I start and stop writing all the time and more often than not, they turn into nothing. There are so many pieces to the puzzle. So many things that need to be said and shared.
I was really struck by Roxy’s last post. I have known Roxy for a little over a year now. I know her story well. She has told me before. But she has never gone as deep as she did this time. It is like pulling teeth to get that girl to slow down long enough to feel what she, in my opinion, needs to feel. She doesn't do it because it's awful. It is heartbreaking. The lump in my throat as I read about removing her mother’s feeding tube caught me by surprise. It made my head and heart spin in opposite directions. I kind of didn't know how to feel. In that moment there was some of the worst pain a person can know. In that same moment there was such beauty it makes me catch my breath.
Good and bad, beauty and pain. Good vs evil. The age old theme is nothing new. The two have forever coexisted and the battle rages on. Our society is so beyond crazy it is easy to forget the good. But it’s there. Every, single, time. Oh believe me, you have to look for it. You may even have to dig deep sometimes, but it is always there.
As Roxy and I continue and develop our blog, we want to be authentic. We are learning as we go. Isn’t that what we all do anyway? We have talked a lot about not wanting it to be “too sad and depressing.” And then we ask ourselves “WHY...WHY ARE WE DOING THIS?” and the answer is the same... it’s to get it out. More importantly it’s to get real. It’s for us to share as we learn and to maybe, just maybe, help you embrace whatever it is that you are facing.
Many people have been sharing stories with us that are amazing and inspiring. My story is no better than theirs, or hers, or yours….it's just my story and it matters. The loved ones we lost matter. The broken hearts, relationships and dreams all matter. So why do we keep it all inside? It’s uncomfortable. It’s messy. It is fucking brutal. But guess what? It isn't going anywhere. Even worse, it is inescapable. We are all going to experience loss. We will all face the impossible. So why not talk about it? Our connections are greater than our differences, and there is power in that.
Running from our pain only digs us deeper into the darkness. And there is so much darkness. Sometimes it is so dark and lonely you just feel weighed down. Even breathing feels like a challenge. And you know what? That is ok. When everything seems impossible. Because at any given time, it really is just that...impossible. You can stay here as long as you need. But you can leave the darkness too. I wish I could say that’s all there is to it. You finally see the light and it just gets brighter and brighter. But that would be a lie. Maybe we can leave the darkness for a while, but even if you try with every ounce of strength you have, it will come back. And that can be ok too.
I hate to think back to the early days right after the accident. It is emotionally devastating and can become physically sickening. But you do go back. Over and over. It is haunting how some things cannot be erased from your mind. Some things can't be remembered. I remember awful. But I do remember good. I remember love. It always comes down to love.
One of the first nights after the accident a woman, who would become one of my most treasured friends, asked if she could stop by. She and her boys had just lost “their person” 9 months before. I didn’t know what on earth I would say to her or what she might say to me, but I knew I needed to see her. She got it. She had been there. She was living in the midst of her pain.
Our connection was immediate, and for me, she has been a beacon of light since that night over 2 years ago now. Knowing she knew what I was going through gave me “something” to cling to when everything else was slipping away. She didn’t have to share her story. She didn’t have to offer support. She didn't have to do anything. But she did and without that, without her story, I wouldn’t have started on a path of survival. I don’t know that my family would have either. I often wonder how things could have been different. It is a terrible waste of time. But even though it hurts, I can look back and see how all things bad and good could have been different. There it is again...the good and the bad. Some days I can only see the bad. It is all I want to see. But other days, I can't help but see the good. I am thankful for my friend who didn't run from the pain. She was in the middle of the fire and she knew I had to go there too. We were in it together. I was not alone. Thank God I was not alone.
A few months after Drew died, my brother-in-law, Chris, sent me a link of Facebook COO and author Sheryll Sandburg delivering a commencement speech. I didn’t know anything about this person, but as I listened, I heard her story and understood. She had just months before lost her husband unexpectedly while they were on vacation. Here was this accomplished woman who seemingly “had it all” suddenly a widow in her early forties and a single mother of two. It is a tragic story to which I could easily relate. I started following her story and appreciated her sharing. Knowing she and her kids were “doing okay” was encouraging to me. I have continued to follow her story because she is another example of, as she talks about in her book, Option B, resilience.
My new friend and this stranger gave me strength when I simply had none. Time and time I have thought of them, learned from them and pushed forward just like them. What if they hadn't shared their stories? What if they had quietly endured the worst thing that could happen to someone? How would their lives be different? How would mine? Do any of us have it all figured out...no. Will we ever...no. Will we struggle and fear being sucked into the ocean of grief...YES. Will we survive...YES. Even when it's the last thing we want to do.
I’m a thinker and a believer and after all that has happened, I have to believe that there is a greater good. Drew’s life is far too big to be forgotten. Not to mention he was obnoxious as hell...His story lives on. Not only a story of loss, but a story of love and hope and purpose. What else is there if we don’t do this? What is the point of any of it if I can’t somehow make a difference just like people did for me?