Thursday, September 26, 2013

On losing someone.

We don't talk about it, I guess.

The big stuff, yeah, of course. The obvious stuff. It comes up from time to time, maybe with other people they left behind. Moments of commiseration, remembering them, maybe, or just talking in vague terms and ideas about how we feel.

But we don't talk about the little stuff. The things we keep around, the things we wear to remind us of them. The conversations we have with them in our heads when we're alone, the times we curl up in bed in the afternoons, when no one's around, to cry.

And it's because when someone dies, so too does your relationship with them. And that relationship was unique, specific to the dynamic you and you alone had with that person. You can describe it all you want, as loudly and often as you want, but never, never will you be able to make someone else understand what it means to you.

And so we don't talk about it. We sit in our memories, trying our best to remember what it was like. Afraid, always afraid that we are remembering things differently, incorrectly. Wondering how much of it was real, and how much we've made up in the intervening years.

2 comments:

  1. my greatgrandfather raised me until i was nine. he died last fall - i don't remember the date, which is sad. he loved jelly bellys, in his old age - there wasn't much he could enjoy anymore, but apparently jelly beans did the trick. i didn't call enough, but i don't feel guilty. this spring, i opened a cabinet at my desk at work and found three packs of jelly bellys that i never sent. that, that is what made me gasp a little, and that is when it really hit me. he's dead, i'll never get to send him anything again, and part of my history is just gone. i know i'll never remember it right.

    i hate when people do this, hijack a comment with their own story but, here i am doing it anyway. i figured you'd understand.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Quite the contrary, love. I don't write here because my ideas are well-formed and should be published; I write to encourage others to share their ideas and stories.

      And yeah. That's exactly what I'm talking about.

      Delete