Up until you died I was one of those people who nodded along to life. I laughed when prompted, cried when needed. I carried on as if the chaos had its own order. I leaned on the crutch of the phrase ‘everything happens for a reason’.
But then you died. And there is no reason that should have happened. There is no reason that I should be in a world that you are not.
Through mourning you I’ve come to see that maybe everything does not happen for a reason. Maybe some things just happen. There is no magic in your loss. No hidden lesson waiting to be uncovered. There is no reason I should be here going about life and you should not.
Maybe there isn’t anything behind our pain and suffering that will make it worth it in the end. You cannot have life without death, or happiness without sadness. There cannot be “good” if there is no “bad”. What if there is no great “ah-ha” moment waiting for us? A “this is why that happened” moment. What if there is no elusive meaning behind this suffering? What if suffering does not earn us wisdom or reward? What if pain is just…pain?
Maybe there is still a silver lining though.
There is power in the fact that I can carry you with me. Your spirit remains inside of me. You walk into every room I enter and breathe through every word I speak. I live with the ache, and I let it fuel me. If you could not finish your living, then I will carry you into mine.
Maybe there is no reason that you’re gone, but there will always be reason in how fiercely I choose to keep you here.
