"Cause you never think the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think you have forever, but you don't." –Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy
You know that voice in your head that tells you that horrible tragedies only happen to others? That it could never and would never happen to you, your family, or friends? I used to believe that voice in my head. I think we all do, or at least did at one point.
Not that any of us think about it all that often because we don't want to have to imagine the possibility that we could one day have to go on without our people by our side. In the past, when I heard a sad story about the loss of a best friend, parent, or sibling, I thought to myself "That's awful. I can't even imagine what it's like. Thankfully I'll never have to." Unfortunately, on January 15th, 2014, I learned I was wrong. Losing a loved one unexpectedly is a completely life-changing and extremely tragic event, and is something that simply can't be understood until experienced.
It was a normal Wednesday. Then one phone call, one sentence, instantly turned it into the worst day of my life. The news that my step-father was gone, literally knocked me over. He had passed away in his sleep, and it wasn't until months later that we learned why. But it didn't matter why, the bottom line was, he was gone, way too soon. It was only months after his 41st birthday. As I dropped to the floor and the tears started to flow, a million thoughts flooded my mind; this can't be real, he's so young, this has to be a mistake, I just talked to him last night, and I didn't even get to say goodbye.
But it was all too real. It wasn't a mistake, and although I had just talked to him the day before and he was fine, he wasn't fine anymore. And he never would be again.
Accepting that someone can just be gone like that, in the blink of an eye, is one of the hardest parts of grief. Even though you had so much more left to say, there will be no more phone calls, random deep conversations, or laughs shared. Even though you had so much more left to do with them, there will be no more days spent together, car rides to and from school, or random trips to the store. No more of any of the simple things in life that we all take for granted all too often. Realizing that all the big moments to come that you had always pictured them to be a part of, would now have to happen without them there. You don't want to accept that life goes on without them.
"Grief is like the ocean. It's deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night...quiet, persistent, unfair...diminished by time and faith and love." - Samantha Walker, One Tree Hill
In those first days, weeks, months, and even years after a loss, it's sometimes hard to imagine that it will ever hurt any less or get any easier to live without that person. Every time a well-meaning person says one of those cliche things like "It will get easier", "They're in a better place", or "Let me know if there's anything I can do", you just want to scream. You don't want it to get easier, and you don't want them in a better place, you just want them here and for everything to go back to normal. And unless they have some magic wand that can reverse time or bring your loved one back, you can't imagine that anything they do for you could possibly make anything about this situation better. Sadly, there are no magic words or tried and true rituals to turn things around. How can your world be fixed after it has crumbled to pieces right before your eyes?
Any loss is an extremely sad and difficult event. One that brings a pain that cannot easily be compared to that from anything else and that can only be eased or healed by time, if anything. However, losing someone unexpectedly is very different than losing someone to sickness or old age. And this is certainly not to belittle the pain that comes from missing someone even after you've had time to come to terms with it and say a proper goodbye because that is just as real and undesirable as the alternative. But there's something about the nature of a sudden and unexpected death that is just different. It turns your life upside down instantly, leaving you broken, lost, and with a newfound outlook on everything.
After I adjusted to living with grief and everything that comes with it, I eventually realized that the unexpected loss actually did something amazing for me. Sure, I still deal with those inevitable moments when a certain song makes me want to cry, or I can't stop wondering what advice they would give me in a certain situation, or when I see a picture of good times that brings the all-too-familiar pang of sadness back instantly, leaving me feeling empty and thinking about how I would do anything to just have one more minute. But in all of the other moments, I have learned to not take anyone, or anything, for granted. And, that is a gift I now have a deep appreciation for, and hope that I can pass on to others before they learn it the hard way.
I now know that life is beautiful and so fragile, and as indestructible as we may feel sometimes, it can all be taken from us in a second. I've learned to appreciate the small things every day; the phone calls, the laughs, the car rides, and everything else that before seemed insignificant. I've learned that there's no point in waiting; if there's something you want to do, then do it. Sure, you could wait until tomorrow, or perhaps next week, or even for 5 more years. But, the thing is, we are never guaranteed any of that. Do what makes you happy, do it now, and cherish every moment of it.
And maybe most important of all, I've learned to never miss a chance to let someone know how much they mean to you. Because you never know the last time will be the last, because you never, ever see a crash until it's dead on, and because you never know how much you will miss someone until they're gone.
"If you had a friend you knew you’d never see again, what would you say? If you could do one last thing for someone you love, what would it be? Say it. Do it. Don’t wait. Nothing lasts forever." - Brooke Davis, One Tree Hill
One last thing: if you have a minute, please listen to this Kris Allen song. You may have heard it before, but it sums up perfectly the message I wish everyone would take away from this article.
This one's for you,sec Kevin. We all miss you so much, rest in peace.