There are two types of writers when something devastating occurs.
Those who write and write and write. That ‘devastating occurrence’ makes them want to write and write and write. They manage to create a delicate, beautiful, vulnerable piece of work from their sorrow.
The second type consists of writers who break. Their minds go blank and their hands become too weak to pick up the pen. They can’t process ideas and they can’t escape from the grief surrounding their heart. All the words they put on paper or think seem to be meaningless and dry.
I, myself, belong to the latter.
As the whole world celebrated the start of October, I grieved. We grieved. Losing two beautiful and pure jewels was hard. Saying it over and over was hard. Looking at people I hold close to my heart cry was hard. Watching the people break who meant the world to my jewels was hard. Waiting for the dreadful days to end was hard. Accepting it was hard.
I think about what I did those days when I was left alone to my solitude and grief. I can’t remember. I just remember not sleeping…but, what did I do? Did I cry the hours till there was none left of that day? Was I lost in thought? I don’t remember. Or…maybe I don’t want to remember. How vulnerable and weak I was. I don’t want to remember.
But, I got through it. We got through it.
Each of us that were affected by such a tragic accident is trying to get back up and live.
To live for them- my beautiful jewels.
I couldn’t write but I wanted to write, so I sat in my balcony and whilst staring at the sky that cried, screamed, smiled; I wrote letters.
Letter after letter after letter to my jewels. The words written spoke of sorrow, pain, regret, memories, inside jokes and just like that, I drew a picture of them in my mind with my words.
I now know that this is the worst kind of pain- Grief.
Your head feels heavy and hot and when you least expect it, you start crying and crying and there is nothing you can do to stop it. You ask yourself at least 8 times a day “This is a dream, right?” and every time you ask that to yourself, you need to remind yourself it isn’t so you don’t get lost.
And…That’s okay, love.
Feel grieve but don’t let it tear you down.
I lost someone precious, you lost someone precious. We all did. But, we all have stories and memories and inside jokes – so cling onto them. Don’t let them go.
Their names will forever be engraved in our hearts; their laughs will echo in our ears; their last words will be forever our ‘goodbye’ that we will hold onto.
It will be okay.
This isn’t a delicate, vulnerable, beautiful piece of art and it wasn’t intended to be one. It’s supposed to be reassurance for everyone that is currently going on with their day in grief.
Say “It will be okay.”
Things won’t go back to the way they were and they shouldn’t. But, you’ll learn and I’ll learn. We’ll learn to live with it and it will be okay.
I assure you that the day will come when you say their names and all the good will come to mind and no amount sadness or pain will ruin that moment.
You know why?
Because it’s not the years that count, but living that does – And my precious jewels did exactly that. They lived and they lived well.
I love y’ll and always will and we will meet soon.
Lots of love,