That’s life

© Sarah Lipoff 2011

These last couple of weeks have had some pretty major ups and downs. I lost a friend, attended his memorial, and offered support and love to his family. While sitting there with my daughter listening to his family and friends share about his life, I couldn’t help from bawling.

It was horrible.

My daughter didn’t get it. My husband kind of got it.

I was bummed.

Every morning I would wake up and say to myself that this would be the day I would be okay. That I wouldn’t catch myself on the verge of tears at some random moment, be tired, overwhelmed, scared shitless…

I lost a friend last year along with a cousin. Both of their deaths caused so much pain and torment. And, during all this I’ve been watching as my daughter is growing and changing and evolving. And, my heart pounds and breaks and then pounds some more.

I have no idea what I would do if something ever happened to her.

But, that’s life. I can’t control what happens around me – just what I’m doing. I can make every day the best day. I can be nice to others, offer support and love when possible, and cherish every special moment around me. I can do my best. I can.

Today was the first day in a long time where I felt a little bit better. That those I’ve lost are still part of my life and can be forever. That I can live and love my loved ones without constantly fearing I might lose them.

Because, that’s life.




3 thoughts on “That’s life

  1. I’ve totally been there. Loss is really hard.
    I read somewhere recently that we try to speed up grief in the 21st century. In the 1800’s people would wear black for a year to show they were mourning. In the Despression Era, people would wear black armbands to show they’d loss someone that they cared about for a year. And now, we try to rush through it.
    I know that it sucks. Pain sucks. But take your time. It WILL pass… don’t rush yourself. If it hurts for a long time… that’s OK.
    Hang in there.

  2. I haven’t lost a friend and cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like. What I can imagine is how it must affect watching your child grow up since I have similar fearful feelings about my son even though I have not had that loss. I often have deep fears that I will get in a car crash and he will grow up without me or, when he goes out with his dad or with my parents, that I have to hug and kiss him huge in case it’s the last time I see him. Thanks for posting this. It has given me some good sentences to run through my mind when I know I’m getting scared or sad when really, there should be joy for us having each other now. So sorry for your losses.

  3. Thanks, Sarah and Christine. It’s so nice to read such nice, sincere comments. This has been a hard week, and it’s only Monday! I wasn’t going to write about this because it is so close to my heart, but now I’m happy I did – and I do feel better.

    Thanks again

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