It Creeps In...



I'm sad. 

There I wrote it. 

I'm not looking for pity or coddling in writing this statement. It's more for my own edifice; a deliberate declaration of defiance against lying to myself. The holidays it seems are a catalyst for sadness to creep up on me out of nowhere. I've been good at hiding it over the years but now it's drowning me like a flood and somehow that's okay. 

My father died 33 years ago today and I can still feel the vibrations of hearing my mother telling me he was never coming home again...ever. It's like an echo becoming louder when the New Year approaches; today it reverberates deep into my bones. 

I think I've held on to so much of this sadness because I've never grieved properly after his sudden death or the sudden deaths, murders and passings of family and friends; I often wonder if there is ever any proper way to deal with it? 

Elisabeth K├╝bler-Ross provides a template to follow but in reality there is no magic bullet for alleviating it. As a boy I was always taught that men don't cry and you have to be strong for the others around you. I would see examples of my father and uncles seemingly unaffected by tragedies and deaths and wondered how could they not want to cry or be sad? I was, but I emulated their cues and learned how to hold it in. 

Even when I've been fortunate enough to be able to share it with someone, I felt like I was burdening them. Even now while composing these words it almost feels wrong but I receive strength in knowing that in the human experience none of us are immune to it; it's how we handle it that makes all the difference.

I know I can't keep doing the same thing and expect a different result. So in writing this post I make an acknowledgment to embrace my sadness for there is indeed a quiet serenity in letting it pass through me.

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