the dash in between

on a gravestone, there is date of birth and death, and between; a dash

welcome back to hot & grieving! we’re back after a six-week hiatus in which i traversed multiple countries, spent multiple hours on end alone with my thoughts, and the world kept turning.

many drafts were prepared during this time, but this one felt the most poignant, as recently an adjacent family friend passed away at twenty from a brain tumor, after a long and hard battle over many years. it’s an incredible shame when individuals are taken too soon, and it was a fresh reminder of the early days of grief for me. a beautiful eulogy was prepared, one of many for this bright young woman, and it spoke to the dash on a gravestone.

i know — what a dark topic, but in fact this is a blog about grieving and in fact, death is a part of life. there is a poem that speaks to this, "The Dash" by Linda Ellis which brought me to this writing here.

when we eulogize someone, we speak almost exclusively about the live they lived while they were here on earth, touching briefly on birth and usually briefly on death. one of the most profound things i have learned on my own journey, is that we don’t get to choose. of course this is painting with a broad stroke, but ultimately when we pass is not up to us — but what we make of our lives, is.

it’s not toxic positivity

i know. i'm harping on a cliché; to make the most of your life. we see these inspirational messages on doctor’s office walls and the homes of rae dunn collectors, but unfortunately, it’s true. also please don’t mistake this for toxic positivity, i am still just as cynical as before, but it helped me give a new perspective.

one of my coworkers and i have a saying we exchange, “attitude adjustment day/week/month/life,” which is a reminder to get it together and check yourself before you wreck yourself, corporately speaking. and it rings true for me on a grief journey because one thing you’re going to be is emotional — like angry at anyone and everything, emotional and as hard as you try, it will smash over you like The Great Wave off Kanagawa.

on the topic of EQ, it’s funny; the younger folks in the grief club all wear a similar badge of understanding and warm smiles toward the world because of what they’ve seen. it’s not uncommon that individuals facing the darkest, most painful events that life has to offer, are also some of the most kind and giving. this parallel is no accident, and is instead driven by the fragility of life, and the knowledge of how little time we actually have with each other.

eternally grateful

i remember in the early days of grief, even when i was physically aching, i was grateful in small pockets. straight out of the hundred acre woods, i kept coming back to the line from Winnie the Pooh, which reads, “how lucky i am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard". it seems almost trite because of its simplicity but as we know sometimes simple is best. i was so fucking lucky to have something that made saying goodbye so hard, and for that i was and am eternally grateful.

beyond the actual personal feelings, when you have a loss, you get to see the true strength of your community and those that love you, and i am more than sure that i have an incredible village and it’s standing strong to this day.

which of course you might be thinking, well yes but isn’t this what people should be doing? while you’re correct, many people often forget the story of the little red hen. your village is not built overnight, and it’s important for you to cultivate it in the good, so it can be there for you in the bad.

is it cringe to say make your dash count?

well i’m going to say it anyways — make your dash count.

it’s incredibly common for those near death to have regrets; they wish they spent more time with their family, their parents, siblings, you name it. many have regrets around love and loss, unshared feelings, anxieties and fear. it’s also common for those grieving to have regrets of the same nature, and i know many have experienced this as well.

you don’t have to “live every day like it’s your last” but i have found that it is not only healing, but inspiring to live each day with intention. checking in with my values and contributing back to my village, my community, and myself each week, to make each regret that much smaller and the memory of my loved ones, that much bigger.

to those in my village reading this, i love you and thank you.

now that i’m back in the city, we should be getting back to our regularly scheduled programming! as always, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading, and if you hated it, let me know, i’d love to discuss.