Sometimes life feels this way. Things happen that throw us completely off kilter. Up is down indeed.
I am big on watching for signs; seeing what is around me and trying to take something away from everything I see.
On my daily early morning walk, soon after the most ‘up is down’ experience of my life, I came across this painted in the street. I had to smile. Perhaps the person responsible for this did not have me in mind, but it is no coincidence that it was smack in the middle of my path that day.
Each day afterwards I would pass this in the street, and with each day, it started to fade ever so slightly… not unlike the feeling that I had.
Today, after a weekend of almost normal – or as normal as it could be, or perhaps the new normal – I looked down, and there was my up is down message, faded almost to obscurity.
Had I not known it was there I would never have seen it.
This weekend someone told me a little story about loss. Someone had lost someone close to them and when asked how he was he said that although he was getting used to his life he was still holding on to that feeling of loss. That somehow there was something so very special about still having that feeling. And when the feeling has faded it will seem almost sadder.
I get that. And all I can add to that is that the signs will always be there, they may fade and be invisible to those who are not feeling them, but those of us who are, know they will always be there.
Absolutely right! The inevitability of learning to live with loss, not accepting it, but somehow incorporating it into your existence is true. Nevertheless, the shock that it can be done is stunning but not in a good way. It seems as though if you can live and laugh and continue on that the loss somehow isn’t as huge. Of course, it is and will always be sad and awful and devastating; somehow we learn to live with it. It is a brick in our pockets that we carry wherever we go but sometimes it just doesn’t feel as heavy.
Wow. Times 10. Love you Di.
So totally true. And what Diane said 🙂 XXXOOO – holding you in my heart I can’t yet fathom your loss.
Amy, I’m so sorry for your loss. You write about it beautifully.