The Reasoning of a Storyteller
The first time I sat down to write out the events of my day to this site and out there for the world to see I was a bit apprehensive. I wasn’t unsure if I should do this, I wasn’t sure it would actually work.
I bring this up because someone asked me recently why I do this? What compels me to put thoughts to the keyboard and page today, though, is a completely different answer than it was three or more years ago.
When I first started the reasoning wasn’t for helping others, I was completely selfish in my venture. It was cheap therapy. Some people keep a diary, others write in a journal…this was my 21st century version of that, with the possibility of help from others if they were in the same boat. I came to the point every evening that the house was quiet, lonely, and vacant except for me and my thoughts. When this happened I was left to my thoughts, my grief, and my craziness at the time.
If you had asked me then it was a way to give myself therapy and to scream to the heavens that “this…this is what happens when you lose someone!” Some of those pieces are fairly angry, some heartbreaking, some lovely, and some just . . . are.
Today, though, the process is far different.
Today, I write more in terms of being a parent, of the process, of what we’re doing . . . and from the fantastic things that happen in our lives. I don’t use it for therapy any more, which also explains why I don’t write every day any more. I write today more for sharing than for therapeutic issues.
My daughter over the last few days has come to me with the same phrase each time: “we’ve really come a long way, haven’t we Dad?”
All I can say is “yes.”
I know people who have been torn apart by loss and it’s terrible, it’s horrible, and I cannot say they’re wrong or they’re right. Every person is affected by this in different ways. Some carry on, some marry immediately after (though I’ve never seen that go well) and others stay alone forever because they just don’t see life with someone else.
Then there’s kids who live without a parent. What happens to them is completely contingent on what the remaining parent does. My failings, grief, emotions and thoughts be damned…I wasn’t going to intentionally fail four kids because I couldn’t handle things. I may fail but it wasn’t going to be due to lack of trying.
Life continues to move forward and you can either watch it blow past you or you can continue. The interesting thing I’ve found is that we haven’t “gotten over” losing my wife, we learned to live with the fact that she’s gone. Her story, it just ended. I wish it was more dramatic sometimes, or that we had more time but wishes just don’t make it so. Meanwhile…life happened. We had amazing things to fathom in front of us. We laughed – a lot! We saw graduations and dances and sang and danced (badly) and acted silly and giddy.
People on the outside sometimes wonder . . . how can we thrive and continue? The answer is pretty simple. The world, it turns. Day comes along again, every 24 hours, and we watch the sun come up on that Eastern horizon…even when the sky is obscured by clouds. When the world moves forward you have to choose either to move forward with it or watch it fly by.
We’ve chosen to ride along, on the crust of the planet, living and experiencing it all.