Lost In Emotion

I went on Facebook the other day to waste some time (that's what usually ends up happening, anyway) and found out that my brother-in-law's dad had passed away. The week before the same thing happened to the father of a close friend. 

It's crazy how all the emotions associated with my own father's death, over 16 years ago, come right back up to the surface when I hear of someone I know losing a parent, or a child, or a friend.

We attended the funeral service for our good friend's father. It was a beautiful service, filled with stories of his goodness and love, and we couldn't help but compare all that was said to the life our friend is living. He could be described in much the same way as his father, and I guess that is part of his father's legacy, to pass on the good in him to his children, so they can continue what he started.

I couldn't help comparing myself to my own Dad's wonderful qualities, and finding parts of him still alive there in me was a beautifully overwhelming thing.

Here's the other thing I've been thinking about - grief. I have discovered that grief does not happen in a perfect cycle. It does not happen when or where you want or expect it to. It can show up on a random Thursday on aisle 3 at the grocery store when a song on the overhead system evokes a memory. It can show up in the middle of the day when you have some form of inspiration and have the thought that your Dad is right there, whispering ideas into your mind. It will show up when you attend a funeral - any funeral, even one for someone you don't know - and you may find yourself a blubbering mess, worried that the family will wonder why you are so emotional about someone you didn't even know. 

Grief does not follow any patterns. It does not get "easier with time". You may remember the pain and heartache less, but the person that is gone is always there in your heart. You don't want to forget them and you don't want others to forget them either. 

In 2013 I wrote about how thinking in terms of Horcruxes helped me work through my emotions after the death of a good friend. The last couple of paragraphs read:

There are a million things I could say that I haven't over the last year, but the one thing that really stands out lately is this: in losing Jason I have gained something else - a whole network of friends who look out for and care about each other. Because Jason was such a big fan of the Harry Potter books, I like to think of it in terms of Horcruxes.

Jason is no longer here with us but a small part of him is alive in every person who loved him.  So, even though he may not be here with us physically we can still have a part of him with us when we associate with each other.  He lives on in each of us. We are like his Horcruxes, anchoring fragments of his soul to the earth in the memories that we've shared with him. Every person who has a memory of Jason holds a piece of his story. I think that when we remain connected to each other we remain connected to him.  That is something I can hold on to.  That is something I am thankful for.