Today has been a rough day, for no good reason other than the fact that I miss you terribly. Three whole months have passed since your death, and I feel like it is just now sinking in that I will never see your beautiful smiling face again when I get home from a long day of work or when I wake up after a night of sleep. I miss your physical presence. I miss your words. I miss your quiet companionship. I miss your energy.
I’m not the only one that misses you, though. So many people do. The world misses you. One hope that I have is that the world can see the shape of you in me. If they can, then you’ll never really be gone.
I hope that the world will be able to see the shape of you in the friendships I have only because you were in my life. There are SO MANY friendships (and even some marriages!) that only exist because of you. You found joy in helping form those connections, and I hope to do my part in keeping some of those connections going.
I hope that the world will see the shape of you in me, in times when I’m able to help others in some way. You always jumped at the chance to put your talents or passion to work helping someone else. It could involve makeup, or your journaling skills, or your experience in the home care industry – whatever it was, you loved feeling useful and making a difference. I want to bring that part of you to life through me. I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job of it yet, but it’s something to strive for.
I hope that the world will see the shape of you in how I keep our home. I know that eventually, some of your things (clothes, make-up, trinkets, etc.) will be gone from this house, but you and I were so amazingly compatible when it comes to things like making our house a home. There will always be evidence of you – from our record collection to the fact that it is February 4th and I STILL haven’t taken the Yule tree down! (Remember that first holiday season I knew you – sometime in late January or February, Phil left a note on the tree in your apartment after walking Shifu at lunch, telling you it was time? I can’t remember what the note said, but I think it was funny.)
Finally, I hope that I can carry myself with so much compassion that anyone looking at me, at the right angle, would get a crystal clear picture of you. You had SUCH a compassionate heart – it was one of the things that I loved most about you. I know that at times, it weighed you down – the onslaught of negative news today about horrible things happening to people all over the world can be hard to take, but I want to continue with the plan we made when things got overwhelming. We always said that would just do our best to live our lives according to our values, and do the good that we can with the spoons available to us – whether it means donating money or physically volunteering, or speaking up, or a million other ways to create ripples in the world. And some days, we just have to take care of ourselves – and that’s okay too. Sometimes just being alive and taking steps to thrive and be happy in the world as someone who doesn’t fit society’s boxes is the best statement we can make.
I’m afraid of not living up to your legacy – but I do so desperately want the world to continue knowing you and seeing you through me. I am not you – I am my own person and I have to continue existing as myself without you by my side, but if I just keep myself rooted in your love, I can help others continue to find you through me.
Note: this was written based on a writing prompt provided to me through a paid course I am taking. I am not including the prompt, because the daily prompts are a critical component of that course.