Image Credit: Pexels- Priscilla
In a short ten-day span, my best friend of eleven years passed away, and then my divorce was final. I am only forty-four. I should not be burying friends, nor did I want the divorce. The days have been dark and gloomy with the two people I typically confide in just gone. While the ex is still available for me to pick up the phone and call, it’s not the same. Trust is destroyed. My heart is broken. While I have a beautiful friend and family network, I do not know my left from my right or how to climb back up this mountain.
Still, I am a single mom with children who deserve sunshine even on my worst days. They do not have the emotional bandwidth developed yet to understand that I just need a break. I must push forward, show up, and do the work even when putting my head in the sand feels like the better idea. I do believe in working through emotions in front of my children. They must see that I can fall apart and put myself back together. I hope that one day, when they are sitting in their muck, they can think of the many times life kept going on for me even when I was struggling. Parenting through modeling is a method I highly believe in.
Accepting the reality that I didn’t design is a challenge. While my best friend leaving this beautiful world was unpredictable, I cannot bring her back. After a long weekend road trip to hug her family and connect with friends I haven’t seen in a few years, the ten-hour drive home was quite free. I did what I needed to do to move forward, even through all the sadness. No amount of mourning will bring her back. Somehow, that reality is easier for me to conceptualize, handle, and move through than the grief of losing a marriage I never thought would end. Grief is funny. I know that this roller coaster hasn’t even hit the top.
She was one of the few people I trusted with my deepest truths. I never had to paint a pretty picture, leave out details, or hide who I really am with her. The older I get, the more I realize how uncommon having a friendship like this really is. No one will replace her, and I am aware my heart will heal from the emptiness, but I am not prepared to walk through life happening against my best laid plans without her. I digress; life keeps going on.
In this ten-hour drive home, I felt the one-hundred-pound gorilla lift off my back. I laughed more than I cried. I screamed as loud as I could in the comfort of my speeding car. I listened to the same downloaded playlists as I did on the drive there, and this time I felt more joy in remembering than I did in focusing on what will never be. While I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, I am confident that this too shall pass.
Divorce is tricky. No one should be married to anyone who doesn’t want to put in the work to stay together. If a friend of mine had shared the same marital woes with me as I have been stating for a while, I’d politely suggest divorce. I saw it coming. I wasn’t blinded by the pressing issues. I just thought that this relationship was different. I thought we both signed up to do the hard shit together, even on the days we didn’t like each other very much. While I cannot unhear the things he said to me, I equally have not been able to forget the very reasons we were together. Our chemistry is still, even post-divorce, a lightning storm bursting to brighten the darkest skies. That man walks in a room, and I am floored by how I am still sucked right back into his charm. But it’s not mine to enjoy anymore. The cold reality sets in, someone else will enjoy it sooner than later. He chose this. I must force myself to accept it.
How do you let go of someone you don’t want to let go of? If you have an answer, I’m all ears. I know a year from now, the pain from this tragic loss will not be at the top of my mind. My heart will heal, the wounds will be stitched back together with friends and their poetic support, and my kids will remind me why I keep pressing on. But today, this very day, a life without either of them seems wasted.
She would not want me to sit around and cry all day at losing her. He, on the other hand, probably enjoys the ego strokes, knowing I am struggling to let go. Losing her reminds me that life is promised to absolutely no one. It doesn’t matter how healthy you are, how much joy you spread in the world, or the million times you so selflessly show up for others; you can still lose it all in a matter of seconds. I know she would want me to live the best life I can live. Whatever it is you believe in, I know she is with me even though I can no longer see her.
So, I did what any self-respecting mid-forty-year-old should do; I signed up for dance classes, I am diving into my art, I am working on my next writing projects, and talking to friends I have chatted with in years. At the end of the day, what if it was my turn? How would I live my life differently if I knew the moment I was going to take my last breath? That is how I am going to live now!
This was written by our contributing writer, Tiffani Morgan.
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