Nature red hands cave hiking trail

My life has taken on a busyness the past few weeks that has moved me away from myself. So many commitments to attend to, preparations to make for some time away. I have noticed a sense of being disconnected from my feelings, from my core. It is an odd sensation to catch it from time to time sitting patiently in the corner, awaiting my return, understanding that I am required to attend to these mundane tasks for the moment. In the meantime I am oddly grateful for the hollowness that I can feel. In this gratitude I become acutely aware that the events that lead to being so intimate with myself cost my sister her life.

It is difficult to celebrate. There are so many things I have now that I would not have had if she had not passed. Connections with friends that have grown in depth, re-connection with my family, such knowledge of my own heart, vulnerability I had spent a lifetime trying to find. All of these things are beautiful and yet I would prefer to have my sister. To make amends with her and hold her for a lifetime.

There are flippant sayings we use about things happening for a reason. I have heard them in the past year and leveled daggers at the mouths from which they spring. These cliches apply to losing the car keys, or forgetting to buy milk, they should not be proclaimed in the hallowed halls of the death of a loved one. I have all of these things now, a deepened connection with myself, and others, a kindness toward myself, and others, that I could not find another way – I know this for I had spent so many years trying to find a path to them. Hacking my way through the brush and undergrowth to no avail. Yet I would return them all for a refund if she could be here again. I would carry on living in the darkness that was my life, embrace my struggle and accepted it for the long haul. Just as I would have given her parts of my body to keep her alive, I would also give her the intense moments of joy I have found in this place to have her again.

This is where life is felt most deeply, the juxtaposition of the joy that comes from profound loss and pain. It is the place where life is felt most fully. There is a beauty to be found here, even in the heartache. The place where the polarities of life collide. It is the bittersweet intersection of living intensely.



One Reply to “Intersection”

  1. Beautifully written. Her passing still makes no sense to me.

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