There is a dread that lives inside me, but it is not about my death. I dread the death of people I care about. I dread that empty, hollow, unbelieving feeling. Yet, I know that it will happen to everyone eventually. Still, it's easy to push that to the back of your mind until someone you love dies.
The pain from losing a friend starts with anger for me. Not anger at the person, but anger at the cruel path that nature walks us down. Gradually, it shifts to sadness and, finally, it settles to live in my gut. That empty feeling. That cheated feeling.
It's a drinking feeling, but I don't drink anymore.
When you lose someone you love, it is hard to remember that you knew it was coming. I close my eyes and rub them hard and try to switch things up, but nothing happens. Just silence. Just void. Just that ache.
I've accommodated the ache, but the random stabs of painful memory get to me. Sometimes, I feel panicked even though there is nothing to panic about.
They say that it is better to have loved and lost than to never love at all. I believe that, but in practice...man, sometimes I just want to leave civilization behind. Be the hermit - not like Leland who loved everyone, but a real hermit with no ties to any place or any humans. The loneliness would kill me, but at least I would never feel that pain again.
While not exactly a challenge, the #2MinutesGo jdmader tribute to Leland Dirks has inspired me take my own stab at death now that I'm not sobbing and cursing God every second of the day.
ReplyDeleteI'm no stranger to death from an early age. The first close death occured when I was 22. My 15 year old brother died in an alcohol caused off roading accident proving "only the good die young." 43 years later the pain sometimes still feels like it happened yesterday when I let myself think of it.
Funny, I always thought the death would be my own. I've lived a careless life, giving more credence to the saying "only the good die young." I've almost drugged or drank myself to death on several occasions. I chain smoke cigarettes like I don't know/care that they WILL be the death of me
An addiction to a certain white powder popular in the 80's stopped my heart. The only thing that saved me was friends who dragged my lifeless body across the street to the hospital's ER, dumping me and yelling cocaine overdose as they ran out the door.
An addiction to alcohol had me driving when I had no business behind the wheel risking not only my life but the lives of anyone driving around me. Like the death of my brother wasn't a serious lesson I should have learned from.
In my 65 years I've lost grandparents, close and distant relatives—my father—friends, and countless animal companions to the black robed scythe bearer yet still I breathe. The animals are by far the most painful even though you know going in that they don't live as long as humans. Few of the deaths were unexpected, most caused by old age where you knew the end was coming.
Leland was not expected. He kept silent about his killer. I surmise from a desire to not burden anyone with the knowledge his time was short. He brightened a lot of lives with his goodness and I'm grateful that one of them was mine.
I only hope I do his friendship honor by spreading the goodness he brought into my life to the lives of others.
Agreed. I made many of those same poor decisions, and they almost cost me everything as well. - JD
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