Missing my buddy (cont.)
Dear dear Tom,
I know that they say that words give little solace, but sometimes you can find joy and comfort in places you never thought you might. So here are some words: You only are supposed to be strong for yourself, and you don't owe anyone but yourself strength. Being strong doesn't mean not crying or not showing or having feelings or acting like everything is normal. Everything is not normal, and that is alright. Being strong sometimes means welcoming sadness and overwhelming tears and a wave of feeling you never saw coming or knew you could have and then coming out the other side, wet cheeked and triumphant and a bit bittersweet. We are better for the things we have loved, and even in loss it is worth it just to have loved. And when you give a bit of yourself to someone else, it is true that you lose control over that little piece of you. No longer are you only responsible for your own hurts, wants, and triumphs, by being outside of yourself in loving someone else, you then open yourself to the possibilities of sadness and torture and heartwrenching missing. That is not wrong, it is human and necessary and again, I know that I wouldn't trade one second of loving my brother to not feel this way now. How much you love life is up to you, and if you feel (however horribly wrong you are) that you loved it less than he did, then it is up to you to love it more now. That is what we must take away from this, we are only as great as those we love and we only honor each other by continuing to love in the face of loss. Do not gratify what death has taken from us, but celebrate what life gave and continues to give us. You are a kind soul, dear Tom, and you have much to give and much to gain from living. Indulge in your sadnesses and celebrate your joys. Be gentle with yourself and if you must cry, do it with clarity even if you don't understand exactly why you cry. We only struggle so that we may triumph.
love,
Susannah
I know that they say that words give little solace, but sometimes you can find joy and comfort in places you never thought you might. So here are some words: You only are supposed to be strong for yourself, and you don't owe anyone but yourself strength. Being strong doesn't mean not crying or not showing or having feelings or acting like everything is normal. Everything is not normal, and that is alright. Being strong sometimes means welcoming sadness and overwhelming tears and a wave of feeling you never saw coming or knew you could have and then coming out the other side, wet cheeked and triumphant and a bit bittersweet. We are better for the things we have loved, and even in loss it is worth it just to have loved. And when you give a bit of yourself to someone else, it is true that you lose control over that little piece of you. No longer are you only responsible for your own hurts, wants, and triumphs, by being outside of yourself in loving someone else, you then open yourself to the possibilities of sadness and torture and heartwrenching missing. That is not wrong, it is human and necessary and again, I know that I wouldn't trade one second of loving my brother to not feel this way now. How much you love life is up to you, and if you feel (however horribly wrong you are) that you loved it less than he did, then it is up to you to love it more now. That is what we must take away from this, we are only as great as those we love and we only honor each other by continuing to love in the face of loss. Do not gratify what death has taken from us, but celebrate what life gave and continues to give us. You are a kind soul, dear Tom, and you have much to give and much to gain from living. Indulge in your sadnesses and celebrate your joys. Be gentle with yourself and if you must cry, do it with clarity even if you don't understand exactly why you cry. We only struggle so that we may triumph.
love,
Susannah