Lost & Found

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I’ve experienced a lot of death in my thirty-plus-one years on this earth. And, after every loss, I’d bounce back quickly and move on, hoping to gain something positive – a life lesson, a silver lining…something! – out of each death. But I never really did.

But when I lost this special lady three years ago, it was different. As much as she had transitioned to the spiritual world, it didn’t feel as if she was out of reach. After her death, I thought my life would end. And let me tell you, I didn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I remembered everything she told me and I think that’s what made me get up and get back to life.
This one particular morning, I was standing in my hallway, pacing back and forth like a mad woman, screaming and crying with boogers leaking down my nose saying, “I promise you that your death will not be in vain. I will grow from this. Trust and believe.” I repeated it over and over again.
Yup! That was me, in my hallway, waking up all my neighbors on a bright and early Sunday morning, and I didn’t give a damn. That was my breaking point. I’d reached the point where I knew that if I let her death get the worst of me, instead of the best of me, I’d be miserable for the rest of my life, and that was something I didn’t want for myself.

So, as the days and the years continued to roll off the calendar, I forced myself to get to a better place in my life. I made up my mind to “get my life”. I didn’t want to be a miserable person; I didn’t want to lose out on the benefits that life had to offer.

From time to time, I’d ask myself, “Would you have even bothered to work on bettering yourself, had you not lost the dearest person in your life? Would these changes have even happened?” And, “Would you still be in a relationship with a “manboy” and miserable as hell? Would you be taking the steps that you are now, and striving to reach your goals?”

My gut feeling was that I wouldn’t have been working on myself, there’d have been very minimal changes in my life. I’d still be running after some fuckboy (excuse my language!), and I’d most likely be a hot mess. And because of the drama in my life, my goals would be so far out of reach. So there ya go!

And then I had another thought: “What if you sometimes have to lose someone in order to find yourself?” It made me wonder if anyone else thought the same way.
So while I was on the bus one day with my sister-in-law, I asked her: “Do you ever think that sometimes you have to lose someone in order to find yourself?”

“Yes, off course. One hundred percent. If I’d never lost your brother, I don’t think I’d be the person I am today,” she said.

As we rode the bus down a long and narrow street that sunny but sizzling day, we had a heart-to-heart conversation, and talked the entire bus ride. I left the conversation with my feelings affirmed: I wasn’t the only person who felt this way, which led me to understand that sometimes you do, in fact, have to lose someone in order to find yourself.
Although some might say that people shouldn’t have to die in order for you to make changes in your life, the truth is that, at times, it just happens like that.

I think it’s a sad thing if someone close to you dies and nothing within you changes: you don’t grow in any way, shape or form. You just remain completely the same.

Before she died, I was alive. But in her death, I’m learning how to live.

I’m finding myself and growing. I now have a deeper desire to share my stories and to work on my dreams. I’ve grown fearless and now aim to live my life with courage. These traits weren’t completely there before, so I can no longer look at death as only a bad thing.

I now believe that the people left behind can learn something from their loved one’s death. What you learn depends on how you choose to deal with it…It’s easier said than done, trust me, I know, but if you don’t try to find the teaching moment out of your experience, you’ll never know what you’re capable of doing and becoming.

I miss my special lady every day and I think about her often, and that too is ok.

Keemah.G

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