“ I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart.” — Romans 9:2
“There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.” — Aeschylus
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” — Washington Irving
There’s no beating around the bush about this — today is not an easy day. Today marks the 14th anniversary of my Dad passing away. And, while that may seem like quite a long time; to those who have lost someone, especially someone who you were closed to and loved, fourteen years is nothing. Fourteen years may as well have been yesterday.
Because, as they never tell you in books or movies or anything of the such — grief never truly goes away. There’s no cure for it. It is a permanent scar upon the heart that only you can truly see. Can truly feel.
The thing about grief is that it is much like it’s blood brother, Depression. It’s not always front and center. Sure, it never goes away, but most days (once enough time has passed), it plays quietly in the background like an ever-present, but ever so soft dirge. Some days, most days really, you don’t notice it. You go about your day as if life is normal. These are the blessed Good Days.
The Bad Days are an entirely different story. Again, much like it’s blood brother Depression, when grief rears it’s ugly head, it is an unstoppable wave of sorrow and pain. The weight of loss beats you down and threatens to drown you in anguish and heartache. When you start crying uncontrollably over something seemingly simple — a lyric to a song, a line in a movie, a passerby who resembles too much like the person you lost, a smell of something that reminded you of them. Even a good event, such as getting married, giving birth, or a long awaited promotion, can bring about the torrent of remorse — because the one person who you wish you could share this moment with is gone forever.
Bad Days can (and most often do) start from the moment you wake up. You wake up sad (as if there were ever such an ineffective description as this) and no amount of attempted joy will ever bring you up from the true pits of despair. These are the worst of the Bad Days.
One of the worst aspects of Bad Days is that they can compound so quickly. Bad Days turn into Bad Weeks. Even Bad Months. When grief and depression share an unshakable suffocating bond upon your very being. When your heart is in an ever tight vice, slowly crushing you.
And the worst part about the Bad Days, the grief, and the depression, is that it’s an Invisible Monster. One that is tearing you apart and no one else can see it. No one else can feel it. No one else can truly experience it.
Today is a Bad Day for me. I woke up missing my Dad and remembered the date. Today is not going to be an easy day for me in the slightest. But, I’m still going to go on living it. I’m still going to take care of myself as best as I can. And, as much as I have the deep desire to be alone, I know I’m going to go to a bad place mentally and emotionally if I allow myself to push people away.
So I won’t. I know my Dad would want me to be happy. I know my Dad wouldn’t want me missing him and letting the despair crush me. I know my Dad wouldn’t want me to suffer. So, in honor of him and in despite of myself, I will make a day of today.
In closing, I leave you with one more quote. It’s from the last part of the seventh book of the Harry Potter series written by J.K. Rowling. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The quote was by Dumbledore: “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.”
