The recent passing of a dear friend has brought me a lot of reflection. Along with it, shame and sorrow.
My biggest regret is not having been a friend, in the simplest definition of the term. There is a hint of blame, but what strikes the hardest is the shame for my egotism.
Spending time with those who energize me is great; decidedly not spending time with others despite the clear identification that they need someone, anyone, is essentially shameful.
Itâs not just that I wasnât a friend; I wasnât even a good human being. A good human being would have asked questions. A good human being wouldnât have ignored any suspicion. A good human being would have been there. Not because she is a friend, a person I hold dear, but because every single life is important.
I was living my relationships based on the lie that the lives that matter are those that make me feel good, comfortable. But the shame of buring a friend made it clear that I never want to bury another person for the same reasons ever again.
Certainly, there is so much I can do; I know. The reflection isnât that I can save lives, but rather that there is something I can do (just as there is something anyone can do). And in the end, freedom is in each personâs hand, but everyone deserves a chance to live.
I mourn every day. Just as Godâs grace renews every morning, the sorrow of losing her renews with every sunrise. And I donât think the sadness will ever go away.
The pain of losing someone that deeply loved life, who easily opened a smile at the sight (or thought) of new adventures, cracked up at the silliest jokes, and never lost a chance to make others laugh wonât ever dissipate. And a part of me wants to hold onto this pain so that I never forget what she taught me in the fullness of her life.
Only now do I realize the difficulty of grieving; there isnât anything that can truly comfort those who grieve. Hopefully, it will just become easier with every morning, a little bit less unbearable, but never letting me forget about the egocentric reflection I saw that day.