So to the few who have already read my first blog post from a couple of weeks ago, many thanks and welcome back – I hope this installment is as thrilling as the first. It has taken me some time to decide what my second reflection should be on. However I think I have decided to bite the bullet firmly and address one of the biggest events to happen to me, ever.
I was 18 when my dad died. First year at university, struggling through what was already a pretty shitty first year, it was difficult. He died of Alzheimer’s, which if any of you lovely folk have any experience with, you will know how utterly heartbreaking it is to witness. And I think witness is totally the correct word for it, because as a family member you are a useless bystander, watching a crime take place in front of your eyes. The person you love being robbed away from you, forever. But there’s no 999 service that can come to your aid. So you stand there, watching, as they crumble to be someone you can barely recognise.
HOWEVER. At the core of my heart is a flame. Positivity is it’s energy source, pushing me forwards and reminding me that there is good in the bad (namaste). I learnt SO. MUCH. And dad, you have helped me so much and you don’t even realise (thanks alligator).
If you read my previous life installment (check it out, it’s not totally crap), then you will be familiar with the fact I experienced my first heartbreak last year. And I think that people forget that heartbreak is incredibly similar to grieving. Someone you love, admire, want the best for, leaves you. In some ways I think it is more difficult, because you see them continue to live without you, or begin to date someone new, which leaves you feeling replaced and alone. Either way, there is a hole where someone you loved once sat in your heart, and it isn’t easy to accept.
I absolutely detest the phrase ‘move on’. I don’t think it makes the slightest bit of sense. Every choice, every mistake, every single action we take leaves marks, on us, on the people around us, on our environment. Just because it hurts or something is taken away, doesn’t mean those marks are too. I think losing someone you love is the same as this, you can’t ever fully ‘move on’ because they are intricately woven into your being, your story. They have touched your life and therefore will inform many of your choices in the future. You cannot ‘move on’ from something which you carry every day.
So fuck ‘moving on’. There will always be part of me which loves my father, and there will always be part of me which loves my exes – so sue me. I won’t move on, but I will carry on. I’ll carry on my life with my dad by my side and my experiences with my ex guiding me into my next endeavour, relationship or otherwise. See, it is not a case of ‘moving on’, thinking about the next person to fill a hole, but rather who you will start to walk beside next. ‘Moving on’ implies that there has to be something next, and sometimes it’s actually just about being comfortable with the loss you have just suffered and being okay with that. Life is a marathon, and the people you meet on the way will stay with you until you cross that finish line. But there is beauty in walking some of the way on your own.
M x
Living Powerfully 