Dyson's Fear 3.0

10 days, huh?

Wow, has it really been 10 days since I sat here to think about the grieving process?

A lot has changed, and a lot has stayed the same. I still miss her greatly, but I'm more at ease about it. Instead of multiple times a day, I'm now wondering what to do without her maybe once a day, or every couple of days. Life has gone on, and while I still don't find a lot of enjoyment in it, there isn't the dark cloud over my head like their was a few weeks back.

Last weekend, I had an epiphany of sorts, where I realized exactly what Mary saw in me. It came from talking with other friends of hers, and balancing the differences that we had. What she saw in me was a mirror. What I saw in her, she saw in me, and it was an oasis when she needed one.

Amanda asked me if this gave me a sense of closure finally, and in thinking about it, I don't think it did. The sense of closure has always been there, and the finality of everything is something I accepted almost immediately. What's been hanging me up is my inability to allow myself to accept that I had accepted that. (Yes, I know, that's awfully meta, but it's all I could think of.)

I've been trying to intellectualize something that simply can't be intellectualized. Loss isn't an abstract intellectual concept (well, okay it is, but it's not quantum theory, ok?), it isn't something that can be qualified or quantified, and over-thinking about it sure as hell isn't going to help you go on. It just is what it is. You need to live, and to experience life, in order to help you go on, and that's something I wasn't able to do until this past weekend.

I still have issues believing she's gone, but I no longer worry about those issues. I need to feel what I feel, and just allow those feelings to breathe. I can't keep bottling them up with attempts to intellectualize my grief, and then beat myself up for not being at a certain place by now. That's just unhealthy.

I have to keep in mind that I'll never forget her, and that even if her death isn't first and foremost in my brain, I'm not writing her out of my life. She is out of my life, on a physical sense, and life does go on. She'll always be a major part of me, because I was always a major part of her. She will always be with me, even if it's unconscious. It's not forgetting her, it's living the way she'd want me to.

My only regrets now are that she can't share this revelation with me. I know that, at the least, she'd respond with a "Whoa!" and that makes me smile.

Labels: grieving, mary chung

posted by Jason @ 3:34 PM