If you have lost someone close to you, you already know what I am about to say. If you have not, I am so happy for you- because it means that you have not experienced what I’m about to talk about and this is good. This is safe and warm and wonderful and I hope that you do not understand what I’m typing about anytime soon.
Someone close to you dies- physically they are gone. You will look for their face in every crowded room. And you will chase after strangers that look like them until they turn around you realize their eyes aren’t the same. And you will wake up in the middle of the night and cry their name. They will not answer like they have 700 times before. And there will be a hole in your chest where they used to be. You will have thousands of questions. Most of them will not get answered- but you will gain understanding. Losing someone has an odd way of humbling you.
But you lose them a second time when you begin to forget. When memories start to blur together and you aren’t sure if it was their birthday where they said something stupid and everyone laughed or if it was christmas. You can’t remember if that piece of advice is something they actually told you, or if you think that’s what they would have said if they were still here. You start to forget what it feels like to hug them and you’re unsure of what their laugh sounded like. This whole forgetting thing really gets me because it is so damn cruel and unfair. It will feel like it’s your fault, but it’s not. It is so unbelievable human and uncontrollable but that doesn’t mean it won’t drive you crazy because how could your brain betray you like that. It will catch you so off guard because all of a sudden you can’t remember what they smell like anymore; and you’re lying in their clothing on the floor but you can’t find it and that’s when it hits you that you’ve lost them once again.
That second time will hit you so much harder than any bullet.