At first when my step father passed away i felt as if my life was crushed. I tried to look up but all I could see was down. I tried to look at it as an angel was now on my shoulders. Guiding me. Teaching Me. Loving Me, because family is family, and that will never change. However, it did take a toll on all of us. Destiny, my little sister was left without a father. And my mom no longer had her partner, her heart. Now… it was different. Things were harder to adapt to, but we managed. What could change anything? Nothing but time. Time healed me. And eventually led me to realizing certain things. Learn to never take anyone for granted because you never know when you might lose them. This changed me. Holding my head up high because I had someone watching over me now.
Embracing the fact that death is one of those things that break but make you, I was slowly learning that. I experienced this death because my higher force knew it would make me a stronger woman. There is beauty in death. From death happiness and the sense of strength comes over you to overcome life’s toughest battles. Even though I am not over filled with joy that my stepfather has passed, it was an experience that changed me for the better. You have to learn how to appreciate things better, and most importantly how to love better. I appreciate all the pain it caused me because it made me able to look at life with a better outlook. I now know to look at life in a positive way, because there is always happiness at the end of the road.
Janely,
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, but where's your poem?
This is a great post because you identify something troubling on your mind, and how it has greatly impacted yourself and your family (the pain), but by the end, you're already starting to see how things are ok... maybe even they are getting better... and they will be better than ever before (maybe... with consistent work, grace, growing joy).
I like the processing you do here and the honesty of the situation. It's a great start to healing through that grief, and not letting it drag you down.
Can death be lifting? That's up to you to decide. I always think to myself in these situations: what would their spirit want? Would they really want us to mope and be sad or get through this and celebrate their lives within our own?
GR: 60 (no poem)