Tonight I was asked an interesting question, ‘I know your father passed not too long ago, but tell me, do you miss him?’ My answer was clear cut. I miss the old black man….but not enough to stop living. My father would not appreciate it if I did, by the way. I do not pine for him and burst out crying at odd times. I don’t miss him…as I know and feel he is with all of us, those he loved most.
My take on suffering a loss of every and any kind is this. Take all the time you need…to fall apart…but never allow the loss to define who you are. Meaning, do not allow it to become a black hole you need to fill with….booze, sex or any drug of your choice. And by drugs I mean anything that enslaves and binds you.
Bad shit happens to all of us. The only thing that really matters is how well we deal with what comes after the mess, how dedicated we are to making things better for all. Not out of guilt or fear…but out of such great love and respect for the other person.
Or maybe….I am the insane one on the room. There is always that possibility!