Living In The &
The most common question I get these days is… “So, really, how are you?” I choose to put aside all the comments that come flooding in around this question and have discovered my response to be “I’m living in the &.”
Perhaps you’re lucky enough to not understand what this means. You see, grief doesn’t walk alone. It’s a collection of emotions that mix together in unpredictable ways sometimes bringing laughter over shared memories while at others deep sadness as we move through silent hours and empty spaces once filled with the hope of our loved one’s existence.
The pain in this place is itself a connection to our departed in a way no one else can understand. It’s ok if you’re not ready to let go of the pain - it’s part of the process. Your grief is an experience of love and connection only you can feel.
In these moments, I find sharing my feelings with Paul in my internal dialogue or prayer helps:
Everything is harder to do without you. Every new step comes with a deep ache. It’s my broken heart reminding me you’re not here, that doing this new thing without you feels like distance from you and that drives the broken glass even deeper.
Over the past few months, I’ve come to experience my life as living in the &. Let me explain…
Because I’m not ready or able to let go of my grief and pain (and if you ask me right now, I will never be ready), I have to look at my life through a different lens. So I’m exploring what it means to live with my grief and pain. This is what I mean when I say I’m living in the &.
I can be in deep pain & know that my life will not only go on but has hope and possibility.
Grief doesn’t define me. It pulls on threads that affirm my existence, even when I don’t want it to. It has the power to deepen my connection to life. It’s a two-headed beast - it can devour me whole and leave me feeling that nothing matters. &, it can serve as the contrast to enhance the reality that everything has meaning and I still have purpose.
These are reflections of awareness. They’re not constant truths. Rather, tools I have that can help guide me from simply surviving my life towards living my life. I’m a long way from moving past surviving. But these help me remember that hope and possibility still exist - even when I can’t see or feel them. I have something to pull me away from drowning in the darkness.
This is me living in the &… for now.