It began with the loss of a love, and I’m drowning in my decision to let this one go. It was followed on its heels by the loss of my faith in the underlying ultimate goodness of this country.
But it was the last one that rocked me, that leveled us all like a blast. The loss of a friend, a beautiful, vibrant, bright soul winked out like the flip of a light switch. The loss that put everything else in serrated perspective.
I retreated for a night to find a path through this heavy haze. I’m still walking blind, but I think I at least stumbled on a trail marker, and it’s this: go enjoy this life. Live it a little extra for a day or a week or a month until the everyday makes you forget, because we owe it to ourselves and we owe it to the ones we’ve lost.
Go play with your children, your grandchildren, your nieces and nephews. Watch a sunset, or a sunrise if you’re one of those crazy morning people. Run until your lungs burn. Curl up with your dog. Feel your lover’s hands on your body. Dance. Take every fucking cliché and roll it into one if that’s what it takes to find the thing that makes you grateful for your breath and your heartbeat and everything that makes you alive.
But this most of all: tell the important people that you love them, because this life is short and we don’t say it enough. For some of us it’s heartbreakingly short, cut off mid-sentence. So go tell them, and pay some of your beautiful life forward.
To my important people: I love you. To all of you, I’m sending light to burn away the haze.