The fragility of life is hurting a lot at the moment.
It has been a long time coming, with twists and turns in the road, but it has happened. One of my closest friends has lost her oldest brother. That hurts to even type. Because truly? He will always be here. Forever.
I honestly don’t think it makes much of a difference, whether you know it is coming or not. When it does happen, it is still painful, still crippling.
Over the last couple of weeks I have been pulled to posts I have written over the last few years, and some of it is comforting.
This stood out to me, from 2012 (Snapshots of a Tuesday):
“You know that thing, when you look into the eyes of someone close to you, whom you love; and all that is rushing through your mind, seems to be as clear to the other person, just as if you had said it all? I had a moment like that today. I went to see my mum at her office, and I simply said a few words to her about something, and the rest was pretty much unspoken, because she knew. For a few moments, we were just lost in the mutual understanding that life is so, utterly cruel sometimes. It has a habit of taking people from the world, leaving behind a trail of sorrow. But, of course, there is so much beauty still; but beauty that you knew existed before, now hurts.”
Beauty that you knew existed before, now hurts. Sometimes the things I have written in the past can stop me in my tracks. That gets me; how can life be so cruel, yet so beautiful at the same time?
On Saturday the boy and I were travelling by train to Hastings, to meet my family. We had a chance encounter that touched both of our hearts so deeply. It was brief, perhaps only half an hour, but I will never forget it. I wrote this about 5 minutes afterwards, after a good cry:
“Just sat with a beautiful man, a perfect stranger, on the train. He connected, briefly, with Matt and I; turned out that he had to switch off his 18-year-old son’s life support this morning. My heart hurts so much right now. I gave him my Agate gemstone, he needs it more than me; and we will never forget him. I hope, with all my heart, that someone in his life will be there for him.”
The raw brutality of life is really affecting me. However, I am also feeling hypersensitive to the fact that this is it…this, right now, is all we have. Life is special, death is a part of life, and we should try to appreciate it as much as we can. It will hurt. It is not always fair. It is not fair right now. But it is what it is. It cannot be changed. Nic would not want us to stop living; he did not stop living, even until earlier this year – he was still travelling, still exploring, still squeezing every bit of goodness out of life that he could.
It is painful though, and I know that it will not stop hurting for his beloved family for a long time. It will get easier, over time, but the pain and the gaping hole will always be there. They are such a beautiful family, and the love I have for them will never fade. The love I have for my friend runs deep. Nell – “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” ~ Rumi.
Wherever you are in the world, I hope you know that you are loved. I hope you know that you are not alone. Reach out. Perfect strangers are beautiful. Perfect friends are beautiful. No human is perfect, but our connections are beautiful.
Oh I am what I am
I’ll do what I want
But I can’t hide
~ Dido, Here With Me
Words are hard at the moment. They help, a little, but they are hard. Instead, love will do. Hugs will do. Kindness will do. Thoughts will do. Actions will do. Love, with all your heart.
“Borrow my heart while yours is breaking.”
Rest in peace, Nic. We love you.