Went to Philly for a baptism, funeral, and hospital visit. Because that’s life, isn’t it? Birth, death, and all the in between. Maybe that’s why people like seasons? [I still have yet to be convinced.] I suppose the weather serves as a reminder that life will keep changing on us. Amen. But also UGH.
I’ve also been thinking... Someone asked me yesterday how my dad died. January 28 is the anniversary of his death. “Oh, he committed suicide,” I said, like I usually do, after years of practice.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay I replied. It was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but you never really get over things like that,” she said. “You just bury them.”
But that isn’t exactly true—at least not from my end.
“But. Well....” I replied “What does my therapist say? [Because—ask my friends—I love quoting a good therapist.] She’d say it’s more integrated. His death is more integrated into my life. I don’t have too many issues talking about my dad’s death, although sometimes I don’t bring it up because it’s not convenient or the situation doesn’t call for it. But it’s not because I haven’t dealt with (or continue to deal with it). It’s because his death is more integrated into my life.”
Maybe closure is the Great Myth—but so is Always-Broken. Sure, you don’t just “get over” finding a parent dead with a gun. I mean. Come on. We know better. Anyone who says differently is selling something. But we can work through the worst of it so that their death doesn’t kill us too. And then we keep doing it again, and again, and again. Integrate. Talk. Heal. Live. Wake up. Do it again. And find a good therapist while we’re at it. And then one day, when someone reminds you that you used to bury every single thing you never wanted to deal with you can realize you’ve changed. Slowly, gradually, and then all at once. I guess that’s how we make it to spring.