UnSpoken Words

Death and Love

Today, I heard words that broke me inside and out. I relapsed on Wednesday, it was the first time in about a year and I relapsed. I had been stuck in that spiral, not realizing how frail my mental health was. As we were preparing for a wake, I buttoned up my collar listening to the comments made by you. I was annoyed and pissed off by these comments because they always seemed to stick to their target like it was purposeful. We drove to the wake and I shook hands with strangers that I called family, but I didn't know any of them. I knew them as the people who shook my hand and hugged me as I was numb from the pain of losing my best friend except this time I was shaking their hands. One hand for another. This time I was older, I looked more mature and so did they. I saw time had washed over them and changed them irreversibly. I stood there, anxious unsure of what to say because I used to be okay with saying I'm sorry for your loss. But those five words, now knowing what grief is, is just a reminder of what you lost. You sit there for months trying to forget to go through a service that is a celebration of their life but in reality it is just a reminder that they're gone, you get texts asking you 'Are you okay? I'm so sorry' No, I'm not. But I want to forget for one moment that she's gone. I want to believe she's still here even if it's wrong. I cried that night, I cried that day in the hospital so hard I couldn't breathe. So no, I am not okay. I am not okay, I am numb and I miss her. I need her here more than ever. I grew around my grief slowly pretending she was never there but in reality she was, whether it was hearing perfect on the radio or seeing her picture in the hallway next to my acceptance letter to National Honor Society. I loved her with my whole heart and more, she was the first person to show me love in a world that had betrayed me. She taught me life, she saved me. Knowing how much she impacted me, makes the impact of those five words "I'm sorry for your loss" even more bare. I feel guilty for saying them but what are you supposed to say when you shake their hands? It felt like I was purposely torturing them by reminding them of what was and will never be again. Maybe I read too much into it. As we sat down on those cold funeral chairs, you sat next to me and I think deep down regardless of how many comments you make you knew I was anxious. Maybe this is a stretch but I think you knew as I looked at you and you made your way over to me to sit with me. We sat in silence but I felt more comfortable than when I was alone. We got up to leave and we leaned against the car as we waited for our driver to finish mingling with what we both knew as unfamiliar faces. You broke the silence and said "When I go, I don't want any services. I just want a mass and I want to be put in the same urn as memere." I spoke without thinking and said " when you go, I'll cry like I did with memere." You said " Don't cry because I died, because of you I had a pretty girl living with me and taking care of me for a little while" I felt my heart sink a little bit because I never thought there could be a day where you weren't here but I realized as you get older that there is a good chance. The sad part is, I always prepared for my mother's death knowing it would be any day but I never thought about yours or memeres. Suddenly the annoyance from your comments was miniscule in my mind. We were never related by blood, and we always had our fights but you always took care of me no matter what. It was like we were both comfortable just coexisting with each other. We didn't have a relationship like me and memere did. But we have a good enough one and it's moments like these that I realize in the grand scheme of things, your comments are okay even if they are uncalled for. At least in these moments, I know you care you just don't know what to say. I guess that's something we both have in common.

- Anonymous Speaker