It’s so hard to find it…
Three months ago to the day, in a more sudden-than-anticipated manner, I lost a really good friend. One of the absolute best. I’ve previously lost grandparents, but there’s something more understandable when an elderly person passes – it’s not a happy event, but it makes sense. When a young man is taken by cancer, with not even a year between diagnosis and passing, it feels wrong. I felt personally wronged. I was furious.
The funeral came and went, my friends were understanding and supportive, but I found I was still angry. Close to boiling over a lot of the time. Knowing how I go at expressing such things (I get more fired up, and say things I don’t mean), I elected instead to avoid the scenario all together. I didn’t want to discuss the feelings, the circumstances, and so instead I locked it down, put it aside in that mental locker known as “Later”, and got back to work.
As mentioned, that was a few months ago. Last week I finished up delivering one hell of a massive project, and I now find myself taking a figurative breath, and wondering what to do with life. That mental locker was just in my line of sight, too.
Last week I also received a message from a friend I hadn’t seen since the funeral. Nothing profound or of massive importance, but it reminded me how much of the world I had simply walked away from in my decision to avoid the problem. So we caught up, we talked, and it was good to do so. I did end up talking about how I had felt, how I had dealt with it. The irony of having to explain why I didn’t want to talk , as I talked it through wasn’t lost on me. I felt better for it – social interaction was indeed the solution to my self-inflicted social embargo.
This week I have set about switching everything back on. I’m making social plans, I’m replying to emails, I’m making lists of things to do and write, and I’m feeling happier for it. But I’m far from over his passing. There are so many things I do, places I visit that I used to with him. Listening to our old podcasts have made question how I can retain these digital memories and create something in a permanent form. All of these events now feel not-quite-right, because there is literally something missing from the experience. I’ve now worked through that feeling a measure, and I realise now that for all the oddness the NQR feeling brings, I don’t want it to go.
Michael Bradshaw, you are very much missed, and due to you I’m now channeling my red rage into green willpower, and continuing to remember you in the best way.
Hey world, how’s things. What have I missed?
Title lifted reverently from Warren Zevon’s “Sentimental Hygiene”…
Thoughts In The Key Of N 