I've been thinking a lot about how much I've learned over the course of losing both of my parents. I've also been thinking about how much I wish someone would have written me a letter with words of wisdom for survival. So I decided to write a letter to myself, from myself.
Dear me, two years, ten months and twenty one days ago:
First off, you are VERY pretty.
You're also a sarcastic asshole, and you use that sarcasm as a wall to keep people from getting in. To convince people you're still the same old you, even though everyone knows you could not possibly be the same person you were before this. You should let people know the new, broken, still pretty awesome you. You should let yourself be vulnerable with them, because they worry about you more when you DON'T let them in (turns out, they know you better than you think.) But also, you should never feel bad for your good moments. You should never feel like people are judging you or think less of you for figuring out how to move forward and find things to smile about. Stop thinking it could be taken to mean you love the person or people you've lost any less. Because those people with whom you're still learning to let your guard down will be the ones who will save you when you get knocked back down again.
You should know that what multiple people told you when it first happened were right; it's around the two month mark that things start to get more difficult. It's about that point that other people unintentionally begin to move on with their own lives. It's not that they forget, it's just that you ALWAYS remember, and it's after about two months that the reality really starts to set in. Every second is permeated by thoughts of your loss, whether happy, sad, or none of the above. Even when you aren't consciously aware that it hurts, other sources of pain will remind you, and they will hurt more because the wound is already open and exposed.
There will be moments that you see coming from a mile away, and there will be others that will blindside you and bring you to your knees when you're happily chugging along throughout your day. Do not beat yourself up for either kind. They will both move you forward if you allow them to. Learn from yourself and learn to stop avoiding those moments. All it will ever do is delay the inevitable fall.
Be consciously aware of how you treat those around you and do not punish them for not having the same experiences as you. Even two people who have lived through very similar losses will deal with them completely differently; it's what makes us human.
Allow yourself to be angry with your situation, but do not allow yourself to be angry with people. Let your losses be a lesson that you never know when your time will be up, and the same goes for everyone else. Do not leave things unsaid, but also do not leave them unsettled. Remember how lucky you were to have your two most important and profound relationships end on beautiful terms, where the most important messages and emotions were exchanged and felt for both parties.
Let your losses also be a reminder of the importance of being fiercly independent and being enough for your own survival. Do not allow yourself to build your life around another life, because our time here is fleeting. But also do not allow that reality to keep you from falling in love or from making new friends, because relationships are your most valuable posessions.
Forgive people for not knowing how to be there for you and for sometimes saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Recognize that sometimes, anything someone says will be the wrong thing. Remember how frustrating it is to be on the other side; to know that nothing you say can or will fix it.
Be there for other people, the way others were there for you. Let them teach you things they don't even know they're teaching you. Be honest and raw with them about your feelings, the way others were with you.
Remember to take it one day at a time, and when that's too overwhelming, one minute at a time. Take comfort in knowing that there will eventually be more good minutes than bad, but the bad ones will never stop appearing from time to time, no matter how long it's been.
Talk about the people you've lost more than the actual loss itself. Preserve the memory of their life more than the memory of their death. But talk about the loss, too. Talk about the pain, and talk about it honestly, and make no apologies for it. The more you can talk about it, the less it can haunt or consume you in solitude. And the more you can give of your story to try to help others.
Find a grief support group and attend it religiously. Let yourself feel everything you've been avoiding, and try not to make fun of the horrible acting in the educational videos that go along with each meeting. Listen to the people sitting next to you and appreciate them for opening their hearts up to you.
Take pride in seeing the parts of you that have survived the wreckage, because they are truly who you are all the way to your core. Make an effort to laugh more than you cry, and know that in itself is a huge win.
Know that it gets easier to carry.
Buy a convertible, get a dog and let him or her remind you of the good hearts still left in this world, make new memories with new friends, and buy a kayak. Leave no stone unturned, no dolphin unfollowed, and live a life you'll be proud of when your own time comes.
Make them proud to watch over you.
