Floating in a leaking dinghy for months on end is not what I’d envisioned for my life after the passing of Erin. Not really sure what I expected during this period of transition but somehow this isn’t it. Nobody really knows or comprehends the depth of their grief until it happens and then all preconceived notions are tossed onto the scrap heap. Now I huddle alone seeking protection from the elements while the choppy sea washes over me and believe me, I’m all alone and only my creator has the power to rescue me. Family, friends, and trained professionals while able to offer temporary relief are truly incapable of saving me from this raging storm. In the end, it will come down to making a pact with God and agreeing to a peaceful resolution.
The dangers are prevalent in the sea of sorrow while the vessel is barely sea-worthy. It appears that I’m unable to change the course of direction or fight the crashing massive waves due to a lack of oars so I drift along with the tides or get pounded into the rocks lurking below the surface. Neither alternative is very appealing but it beats the option of throwing myself overboard, so I’ll continue to bide my time and count my blessings that I’m still alive. Eventually, the boat will run ashore where I’ll discover a source of happiness and contentment or it will capsize and drag me to the bottom. Whatever fate is destined for me remains unknown but I gladly accept the outcome over this stressful taxing burden placed upon my shoulders.
Unfortunately, I’m evolving into one of those folks who I’ve always felt sympathy and pity for and that is the worst result of this miserable experience. Nevertheless I absolutely refuse to become part of the masses that lack passion for life, the walking zombies who are void of any feelings and the emotionally scarred who lack love for anything including themselves. Personally, I’d rather have my ashes mixed with Erin’s and spread in a designated spot than wasting my time going through the motions of a lackluster life. The loss of a beloved friend can cast one out to sea without warning or proper provisions while the grieving must locate a safe harbor amidst the raging storm or perish trying. To date, I’ve weathered the fury of the storm but battered and disheartened I remain as there’s no shoreline in sight nor any hope of the gales dying down. Memories of my angel Erin continue to fuel my beating heart and although it’s broken, it’s still beating. Thank you for continuing to uplift me!!