Bereavement
I received some news this week that shook me to the core: the unexpected and accidental deaths of some dear friends. It didn't register... didn't compute. Stunned and horrified at what this meant for my girlfriend who survived: what she's been through, and what she's lost. What she'll now have to endure.
As the news finally started to sink in, a cold chill descended on my shoulders and through my bones. Days later, I still feel it. And I can't begin to imagine her agony. She lost her mate...the love of her life. Her family. She's one of the strongest women I've ever known, and I believe someday she'll be OK, but I can't begin to imagine how she's coping now.
She's seen me through thick and thin. Good times and bad. I'll do anything I can to help her through this, although I can't imagine my help could have much impact. I don't know that anything can truly help, but I'll be present.
I was home when I got the news. I was about to head to the gym for a swim but driving didn't seem like a good idea. I was shaken. I really wanted company; I didn't want to be alone. I reached out to D, hoping he'd offer some consolation... empathy... support. He just sighed and said in his perpetually congested voice, "Yeah, death is hard."
He stayed on the phone with me for a little while and as a result I learned a bit more about his thoughts on religion and the afterlife as I was sniffling into the phone. At one point he was unemotionally quoting scripture to me. I felt more lost and disoriented than before I called him. He didn't even offer to come over.
I called a girlfriend and the tears let loose.
She was there for me... she was exactly what I needed.
She listened.
She talked me through the shock.
More importantly, she emailed and called me the next day just to check up on me. He didn't bother.
All the stress and nonsense of my workaday life means nothing in the face of a tragedy like this. This is the wakeup call, the mother of all reality checks.
Wring every ounce of love from your life and savor every drop. It's gone too soon.
[Post script] - I didn't hear from D again until Friday night when he left a message tantamount to a booty-call. Very tacky since I'd just spent 3 hours at a gut wrenching memorial service. Another voicemail the next day... same tone. He's over.
As the news finally started to sink in, a cold chill descended on my shoulders and through my bones. Days later, I still feel it. And I can't begin to imagine her agony. She lost her mate...the love of her life. Her family. She's one of the strongest women I've ever known, and I believe someday she'll be OK, but I can't begin to imagine how she's coping now.
She's seen me through thick and thin. Good times and bad. I'll do anything I can to help her through this, although I can't imagine my help could have much impact. I don't know that anything can truly help, but I'll be present.
I was home when I got the news. I was about to head to the gym for a swim but driving didn't seem like a good idea. I was shaken. I really wanted company; I didn't want to be alone. I reached out to D, hoping he'd offer some consolation... empathy... support. He just sighed and said in his perpetually congested voice, "Yeah, death is hard."
He stayed on the phone with me for a little while and as a result I learned a bit more about his thoughts on religion and the afterlife as I was sniffling into the phone. At one point he was unemotionally quoting scripture to me. I felt more lost and disoriented than before I called him. He didn't even offer to come over.
I called a girlfriend and the tears let loose.
She was there for me... she was exactly what I needed.
She listened.
She talked me through the shock.
More importantly, she emailed and called me the next day just to check up on me. He didn't bother.
All the stress and nonsense of my workaday life means nothing in the face of a tragedy like this. This is the wakeup call, the mother of all reality checks.
Wring every ounce of love from your life and savor every drop. It's gone too soon.
[Post script] - I didn't hear from D again until Friday night when he left a message tantamount to a booty-call. Very tacky since I'd just spent 3 hours at a gut wrenching memorial service. Another voicemail the next day... same tone. He's over.
Labels: death, loss, love, mr. sensitivity, reality check, the importance of girlfriends
posted by Master Dater @ 12:39 PM
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