Hello world.
Here we are, well into the first month of yet another year of this new decade. While it’s only the start of year two, I find myself feeling as if it’s been at least five. And as I sit behind my little black desk, listening to the calming melodies of Agnes Obel, penning this blog, my first one in a year, I admit, it is with a bit of a struggle. Where do I begin? How do I justify my retreat behind these hazel eyes? Or my sinking into the hollow of my soul if only to seek comfort, or expound on how the shell of my body has been guided forward by nothing except for a song my heart remembers?
I suppose, I will attempt to explain myself in these words.
My father died one year ago today.
Looking back to the blog I wrote in January, 2021, it was aptly titled, Be Resilient. It started with a quote I thought was the best to highlight. It was by Elizabeth Edwards, you know, the lady whose husband publicly humiliated her, and yet, with grace she continued standing in her strong badassary while inside she may have felt as if she were dying in a thousand ways? She said:
Resiliency is accepting your new reality, even if it’s less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you’ve lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that’s good.
Sometimes I wonder if maybe I was writing that blog for myself, unknowingly, because over the course of time between now and then, that is what I have been reminding myself— be resilient.
My father died one week after my last blog post. And since then, I have been half present in my approach to life in hopes of understanding what had just happened. Because of this wretched virus which forced us into quarantine, I had not experienced time and place with him since right before we all walked into our homes, closed our doors, and prayed that we would be spared. In a way, I felt like the Hebrews in Egypt, when Moses said something like, “Go, spread the blood of the lamb around your door-posts, and don’t come out until the morning, so that you may be spared by this plague.”
Before covid, my dad and I would hang out every weekend that I was not traveling, where we would go watch a movie and then pick a restaurant where we would sit for a burger and a beer and talk about anything, everything. Our favorite movie series was John Wick - sometimes we would watch the same movie again, and again… and again. The last half of 2019, I was mostly in Mexico for work. January, 2020, the first time I heard about the Coronavirus, I was in a hotel restaurant lounge, working, and watching the display of the muted television— watching the faces of those impacted in expressions of deep sorrow, and a banner that simply said Coronavirus. I was in Canada, and I wondered, what in the hell is Coronavirus? In February and early March, I was in Utah. And then I returned home. He helped me with my water heater problem, we had lunch, and life resumed with a majority of us in self-isolation.
When he was in the hospital, we were allowed to enter his room. He was upset that we were all so somber. His last words to us were: “You guys act as if I’m dying! I’m just tired and want to take a nap.” We were all aware that he would not make it out of his nap because he was… dying. Still, I told him to go ahead, nap— we would be there when he awoke. As he drifted to sleep, I went home to compose myself. One hour later, he took his last breath. I felt it. An overwhelming force enveloped me in my home, the bells of the nearby cathedral started to ring, and the sound resonated into the confines of all that I am. In that moment, I knew. And, I cried. Seconds later, I received the text expressing what I had already felt.
When I returned to the hospital, I saw my sister crying; her then husband consoling her. I walked past her into his room, where my brother was sitting while just staring at his body. He simply said, “he’s gone.” I walked over to my father’s body, turned to the sink to wet a washcloth that had been neatly folded beside it so that I could wash his face and neck.
According to the online version of the Cambridge dictionary, to be resilient is to be able to be happy, successful, (engaged) again after something difficult or bad has happened. And I can’t help but wonder, after the most important man in my life is no more, what happy will look like. Because, who am I in this new reality?
In this new reality… I know that I am not alone in making attempts to forge ahead with this new heart and mind. According to the latest stat on the internet, there appear to have been 866,000 covid related deaths in the United States, alone. Globally, that number is 5.6 Million! And when we consider the theory of Dunbar’s number, that each person maintains around 150 relationships at one time, the number of people impacted by these losses of human life extrapolates. And let us not forget the number of suicides, drug overdoses… divorces and complete life changes! It’s A Lot to bear! And unfortunately, this period of our life is not over — covid cases have been rising, people are still dying! The life we knew will never be the same. My life will never be as it was.
So, as we attempt to be resilient, how do we find our way back to happy in this new reality? I propose we consider the following:
Honor the person who had such an impact to the person we were. Start by embracing the memories, everything we learned from this person. Do something that person loved to do the most. My family and I went to the Dallas Cowboys and Washington Redskins rivalry football game the day after Christmas. We have New Mexico Native American genes which made my dad a big Redskins fan. He was always rooting for the Indians to “kick the assess of the Cowboys”. On that day, I did too. My dad was also an artist. Recently, our local museum had one of his drawings as a part of their exhibit. It was a proud moment for all of us where we imagined how he might have felt that we got to honor his passion. Later today, I will paint something while in his art room.
Acknowledge the person you have become because of the relationship. It’s quite fascinating how much of an impact a person can have on the way we think and feel and believe. Because of this, it is important to understand your circle and look for ways to include people who are positive, loving, kind, and encouraged to live a beautiful life that is not harmful to anyone or to our Earth. We are shaped by our connections… and we can be better humans because of it. My father taught me the importance of looking a person in the eye when having discussions, how to shake a man’s hand when first meeting them, how to be taken seriously when presenting myself, and the critical importance of having conviction. There is so much more that I learned from him, the most important man of my life — for one, he exhibited the qualities and demeanor of a man that I should choose as a forever partner. He was not a perfect man, sure, but what he did right covered all of those imperfections.
Don’t get lost in the water… Keep swimming! That is probably my favorite advice that I received from a co-worker. Just as it is easy to get lost in the moment, I suppose it is just as easy to get lost in our sorrow of missing the one we love, wishing they were a phone call away at the very least. We can get so lost that we become stuck in a time and a way that no longer exists… resulting in an empty shell… also known as depression. Depression can result in job loss, fencing out people who love us, financial strain, loneliness, and in a worst case, death. If this is you, please maintain connection with people who love you… talk with a friend or family member who will not judge you, or find a local grief counseling group. Your area churches will have one… if you’re not interested in going to a church, that is okay - you should go where you feel at peace so that you may accept the help you need.
Whatever this new reality is, while it may not be ideal, it is the one we are living. Take a look and recognize the new you! Throw out all that you were before, that which no longer serves you, because what remains after the fact is the very best version of who you are because of the person(s) you have lost. And that is the momentum we should utilize to keep moving forward! And to make the best of it, we must learn the art of being resilient so that we may continue forward— so that the legacy of that person’s heart lives within our own, and when we meet someone new, we can share their hearts, our hearts, with love, and peace, and happiness. This is samsara— Living and breathing and being within this beautiful cycle of life.
It is true, most times we are left feeling empty without a human connection. Our human connections are dull without the spark of love. And while we may have lost an important human connection, we have an opportunity to discover ourselves anew— with a new heart, and bigger, juicier, love! We must use this love as the spark we need to build upon our current and new human connections. We must use the love we feel as the courage we need to accept this new reality, and step forward as a new you… (a new me.)
This new reality can be considered a time of renewal— where we leverage the words of Elizabeth Edwards and try to put together something that is good, and if I may add, something that is beautiful!
Happy New You!
Happy New Me.
Peace—
R.