After yesterday, I’ve walked around all day, thoughtful, heavy, broken. And I continue to think about how the burden of death remains among the living. The pain of death is only felt by those who survive.
I used to think that funerals and memorials were ridiculous because why spend time, money, and effort honoring someone who can’t witness it? It was many years before I realized the ceremony was for those who were still suffering. It offered a time to grieve, process, and find closure. A time to reminisce and find support among a community of people united by loss.
Grief can be a divisive and unifying process, depending on how you handle it. Instead of blaming those around me for mishandled moments, I choose unity. I choose to find comfort in the support offered by those around me. I am still angry and confused and devastated, but I don’t have to do it alone.
So as I prepare for the upcoming burial, I am thankful for the opportunity to grieve with other people who loved her. I am thankful for a safe space to remember and relive our wonderful moments. I am thankful to say some of the words I wish I could have shared with her.
One thought on “The Burden of the Living”