Good. I'm Glad You're Sad

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matthew 5:4)

Almost two years ago, my brother Charley passed away and into the Heavens of peace, tranquility and not far from where we exist now. I can't tell you how many people in his life-both close in relationship and distant in geography- shut down and only wanted to keep me from feeling sadness. Most didn't want to cause anymore pain than I was feeling, most would apologize for "making" me cry, and the majority of people were uncomfortable with my candor and openess to feel. 

I describe the people surrounding his loss in the past tense because those people aren't around anyhow. I speak in past tense because my brother doesn't come up in conversation with anyone outside my immediately family; it is us who inserts him into sentences with nonchalance and normalcy. I accept that most people have moved forward and are no longer coping or grieving his passing, but I am and my Mom most certainly is. 

We live in a sadness avoidance culture that doesn't allow mourning nor the process of it. Without mourning, we can't work through our sadness so why should we bottle up, immediately accept and act as if all is alright? There is no process in grief, there is no sequence. There is no, "what's next and how do I find it and move past it?" as much as people want to believe. Grief is not a phase nor is sadness; they're both humanly emotion that are caused by being human. And without surrendering to our strong agendas, we don't invest in hope, we plan our future without allowing God's plan to unfold. Sadness is part of our spiritual life and we should honor the process that God designed for our human soul. I disagree with "cheer up, it'll be okay" because RIGHT NOW is not okay and sure someday I will feel "okay" but it's not now. I instead encourage you to adjust your personal feelings to your comfort level and accept the reality that loss does happen and it's okay to experience the pain of grieving. 

Just last week I had to have a tough-love conversation with my Mom regarding her obsession to loop my brother's passing in her mind and through conversation with others; she has pushed people away because she's always so angry and because (I think) that they don't want to hear about her grief and her Charley anymore. But because they don't know her pain, they misunderstand her need for support for misery. That's unfair. I encouraged her to channel her anger and guilt by identifying a healthy outlet and occupying her time with a hobby that she enjoys. Very few are still "here" for us and those very few want to see us happy and living again. But I'm not living to make them feel better, I'm living to help myself. 

Rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. If we don't allow mourning, we will miss the transformative power of sadness. 

It's the Same As It Ever Was

Anyone I've spoken to who has compassionate in their heart and kindness in their words has told me, "Your brother didn't want to die; he wanted to take away his pain". This, I believe without a doubt in my mind. Had he even strategically thought about the impact his suicide would have on us, he wouldn't have taken his life. Sure he may have thought, "With time they'll be okay", still, as well as I know my brother, I KNOW death wasn't the intention.
However, no matter the times I repeat his last weeks and his last hours and the experience of discovering him...nothing will bring him back. The past has passed. He has passed away and time is passing.
I've resigned to knowing I can't change what has already occurred but it doesn't mean I have fully accepted. You may wonder why I haven't and what's holding me back if the truth is what it is...I haven't accepted that my brother is dead because he lives with me and among my family still, in spirit and in memory.
I look at my hands and I see his, I wiggle my long toes and I see his bony toes, I run my hand across the hairs on my arms and I feel the strength in his forearms as I do the breath in his soul. I believe, without a doubt that my brother is with me when I call on him, when I cry for him and when I rejoice. He's here- I just can't see him with my human eye. My faith sees him instead.

I don't want to feel deeply sad as I do everyday. It's a painful feeling that agonizes me when my mind searches for him or when my reflex looks for him. Oh yeah, he's gone. He reminds me of what's important and how to live a life I enjoy, to reject opposing forces that hold me down rather than empower my inner beauty and to uplift others with no agenda of my own. Sometimes I simply picture Charley in the next room watching TV or in the backyard weeding the garden- these notions soothe me and comfort my state of mood knowing very well that the continuity of my life has purpose.