Death

I had a death in my immediate circle recently. It was an ex-boyfriend who evolved into a close friend and confidante.

The grief hit me hard. I couldn’t concentrate and I was engulfed in sadness and regret. We had a story together that was suffice to say, unconventional, but it was our story. Yes, our star-crossed story.

His ex-wife and grown children blamed me for the break-up of his former marriage. In their distorted view, if I hadn’t appeared in his life, he would have agreed to return to his loveless sham of a marriage for longer than the 20 years he already participated in it. He decided to leave his marriage of his own accord, for his own happiness.

And we were happy. For years, seven to be exact. People that knew him said he was never happier. Pictures show him laughing and smiling. Unfortunately, life was just a mess for both of us through those years. We were each other’s solace and escape. Most importantly, we were friends. We were best friends. We spoke the day he had that fateful stroke. We spoke about both our lives and our futures and when the conversation was drawing to a close, we didn’t know how to say goodbye to each other. It would be the last time I heard his voice in this lifetime.

His death devastated me. We had been there for each other for years and now he was gone. His family was cruel to me during his impending death too. His vascular and heart problems that we didn’t know about had now left him paralyzed, unable to talk or swallow. His family let me know about the stroke but then thwarted me from seeing him in the hospital. A mutual friend was allowed to visit him and I asked her to let me FaceTime with him, which we did. He communicated with me by blinking. He told me he wanted to see me, alas, he died a few hours later. I know he wouldn’t die until we saw each other, albeit on a screen.

I never really knew how depression could leave someone so unmotivated until this experience. I fell behind in my work and household chores. I felt like I was alive but as a spectator only. I think I finally understood more about depression than I ever did. His death also tested my faith and spirituality. I realized that I had to let my sadness and despair run it’s course. There were no words that anyone could say that would snap me out of it. As I moved more to center I understood what my significant other and son have been telling me for years. Just be there for us and let us work through our emotional pain. I used my grief to understand their mental illness journey better.

I do plan on holding a memoriam for him around his birthday. I will celebrate his life and the life we once shared.

I appreciate all the lessons he taught me and the kindness he showed towards me and my family. He understood my son was not always well and supported me through it. I am forever grateful.

RIP RC, always in my heart.