Today, someone very close to me lost someone very special.
I can’t even begin to tell you how heartbreaking it was; how heartbreaking it is.
She is grieving, like any person would do. You don’t need to know the details. Neither do I.
But this is what I do know.
In the face of something so agonizing and tragic, she managed to get out of bed and keep going.
I can’t really explain it to you, as much as I wish I could.
It was not some forced energy. She wasn’t forcing herself to be happy. She wasn’t forcing herself to be sad. She wasn’t convincing herself that she was going to be okay, or that she wasn’t. She just let herself be.
She managed to carry herself along. To cry, if she needed to. But smile, if she felt like it. To find a small light in the darkest of shadows. To be strong. A strength that I can’t capture on paper, or a computer screen.
It was genuine. It was graceful.
I don’t even feel like I have a right to write about this, because I have no idea what was actually going through her head. Even though I have lost loved ones myself, every loss is different. I have no idea what she was feeling, or thinking. But whatever it was, it was powerful. It moved me.
She told me a story. About how a certain memory was getting her through this. How it made her grateful. I don’t know what I would do. I think I would be selfish, and angry. I don’t think I would want to get through anything. I think I would shrivel up in bed.
But she is different.
Maybe she is just naturally, incredibly strong. Like her mom.
Maybe I can’t learn how to be this genuine, this graceful, this amazing. Maybe this kind of strength is inherent. But she set an example, and I can try.
It moved me.
She let herself be.
And maybe that’s one of the most powerful ways to be.
To just be.
It takes a special kind of strength to do that.