I Decided

I’ve been blessed to have people in my life who despite odds against them and horrific obstacles, their triumphs over their adversities are inspirational to others. Years ago I noticed they all said the same two words as they shared how they succeeded against a myriad of struggles. The kind of struggles that keeps too many people mired in the muck and in emotional chains of enslavement. They each would start their stories of success with, “I decided.”

The other day when all was going well and I felt close to being invincible, I unexpectedly stumbled onto a deep loss. The kind of surprise that feels at first like a gut punch and then the rug being pulled out from underneath.

Something I thought I had and could go back to as I pleased. That something had been destroyed by someone else. It was a collection that belonged to a deceased loved one. That collection had given me joy. Reminders of lost loved ones can be painful, but for me, they more often give me pleasure.

Riding on that wave of happiness, I went to this treasure to reinforce that feeling. My intentions were to connect again with the collection that had become an emotional anchor for me.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

That’s when the spontaneous wave of grief hit me. It hit me like a ferocious wave at the Jersey Shore. The kind when we’re told to stay out of the water because of rip currents. So we walk on the beach and we stay out of the water. Feeling brave or foolhardy, we think, “Going in knee deep can’t hurt anything.” Before we know it, that big ocean wave with the force of a semi-truck comes and knocks us face down on the compacted sand. Compacted sand with the softness of concrete. All we can do is accept it and pull ourselves up, take what strength we have left to get further away up the beach and sit awhile to recompose. We sit there bruised and winded. We ponder and reflect over what just happened.

THAT spontaneous wave of grief.

Only I wasn’t at the beach. I was in my dining room. Face down. Crying out, “Gone! Taken from me, again!” The feeling was just as intense as when I learned of the real loss of my loved one. Trauma does that. It’s much like a nightmare. Everything feels so real. There is the event that’s happening now in real time. We react appropriately. Something inside us starts to intensify our reactions. Our minds trick us into accepting that intensity, much like the night terrors. We believe the intense reactions are merited in the here-and-now situation. The emotions though, real as they are, come from that piece we haven’t healed yet. Maybe, it’s opportunistic. The buried pain sees an opening and rushes up to the surface to be felt and released. Except, it won’t be released until we know where it really came from. It must be claimed, given its due, and sent on its way.

Better out than in, I always say. Grief, anguish, despair, all better out than in. So, I let it wash over me, until my daughter, sitting down on the floor with me, told me it was time to come back. I am all too familiar with buried pains needing release. It was her words that helped me realize instantly my despair was more than the day’s sadness. Thankfully, over the years I’ve learned when I know where my pain has come from originally, that usually rids me of it instantly and permanently. Much like physical pain.

October with all its dates symbolizing numerous losses I have borne.

Me in September seeing the foreshadowing.

Me saying, “October, I will face you with grace and dignity. I will face you with love.”

October said, “Hold my beer.”

I came up with that symbolism while recomposing on the beach, which was really the dining room chair. It made us both laugh. Laughter keeps me alive. There’s a quote by Abraham Lincoln that I printed out and displayed at my father’s funeral years ago.

“With the fearful strain that is on me night and day, if I did not laugh I should die.”

That second part is my truth. If I did not laugh I should die.

I got through that day. Crying. Laughing. Laughing with tears in my eyes.

I was asking myself how do I face this newest loss with love? My book; “Segue, Facing Loss and Life with Love” is all about that. Frankly, I was feeling less than loving. I may have been missing loved ones, and craving being more loved, but to be sure there was an absence of any lovingness coming from me. Who or what was I to love in that instance? The best answer I could find was to love myself. I was the most needy at the moment.

What did I need? What had worked for me before in those numerous occasions of losses?

Thinking back to one of my darkest and most painful losses, I recalled what I had come up with to mend my torn heart. Peace. “Peace provides our Wholeness, and Love sustains our Oneness.” Isn’t that what I wrote in “Segue…?” What was that phrase I wrote for myself that helped me by the time I had reached the Sholoshim, [the thirty day period of mourning]?

I searched my phone and found it. It began with those two words.

“I’ve decided to be at peace.
Even though existence might be unpleasant,
Life is always good.”

I chose to be at peace. Then and now.

I went back to what I had posted online back then.

Here it is in part:

“I’ve decided to be at peace.
Even though existence might be unpleasant;
Life is always good.

While I do not choose to experience displeasure,
There are times I must say, ‘Here I am. Hineni.’ . . .

We can look at life as being souls on an Earthly mission of effectively bringing true essential pleasure into the World and to one another.

Not a bad gig, if you think about it.”

We can’t bring our dead loved ones back.
We can’t revive destroyed material items.

That day was a long one for me. The main event was putting myself back together. I released, I laughed, and I used love to compose myself back to wholeness with peace.

I chose peace.

I decided.

My life has been equal parts grief and gratitude. By being at peace I am present for the positive in my life. The very next day was lovely. That morning my son sent me a nice text and we chatted about trees and poetry. My daughter enjoyed receiving some nice pats on the back and affirmations and I witnessed them. A dear friend gave me a call in the afternoon and let me know she misses us. The evening had me enjoying a Zoom meeting where I shared about my book and blog and made new friends.

Life is good.

I decided.

(The End.)

Hi there! Thank you for stopping by and reading my posts.

Here’s a link to my book: segue, FACING LOSS AND LIFE WITH LOVE.

Click on the link below and order your copy today.

Here’s to beautiful segues.