The Madness Settles In


The Madness Settles In

20160605_132544I thought by now I would stop crying. I mean it hasn't even been a week yet, but I'm strong, or at least I thought I was...

See, I received the news via text. And this is just a warning. Please, do not ever, I insist ever, share the news of a loved one dying, surrendering to the inevitable, expiring, passing away, whatever you want to call it, but do not ever share that news over a text message. Especially because I was driving when I received the text. I understand the difficulty of the feelings, the intensity, the way the words are robbed from your mouth. I get it but don't send me a text.

I take a breath. I take another breath. I take yet another breath. And still my breathing is panicked racing spiraling in an upward downward entropy. It's a Marvel. I knew it was coming, of course, that's just how it is when it comes to hospice. Inevitable. Timely. Punctual. Death showed up, welcomed to or not. He claimed it was his.

The flood of emotion cascaded upon me. The rushing waters of anger bubbled up to the surface where panic and sadness caused a ripping tide.  Thank you but no thank you to those five stages of grief? There was no denying the situation that I was in. I reflected once I finally had the opportunity to pull over. I cried and then I reached out to my brother. I shared with him the news. He too had received a similar text. Anger again whispered its somber silence into my ear.

I could stop here. I could turn around I can give up. The stories I told myself grew louder and louder. The truth and the line didn't matter. I was on my journey. I was the one who signed up to discover death, agreeing with the untimely and bowing in courtesy of the unknown.

And I kept it in, maybe that's why I chose to go first days before. And I didn't know I was going to share it until I felt the feelings rise up in me and I knew I had to feel them all the way through to their completion. And when I was with my fellow companions, my fellow caregivers, my fellow partners in the dance, I felt strengthened. And it was through this strength I let it become empowerment and in my empowered state, I laid humbly before my friends my situation. I went through the "caregiving years" in earnest expression I sought to connect.

And by sharing my journey and my caregiver story I felt a release. However, now a few days later, I still feel broken inside. The heaviness of reality still setting in; the loss of a loved one, in memoriam I honor you.

I decided then and there that I would no longer let an opportunity to share love, forgiveness, gratitude, and compassion with anyone else Pass Me By.

My mission is to help and to heal others. I must help and heal myself.

Like this article? Share on social


Sign in to comment


I'm so glad you shared about your uncle's death when you arrived at the training on Saturday, Andrew. I just can't imagine what it was like to get that text. Must have felt like a blow to the chest.\r\n\r\nI'm grateful that your wrote to us, too. I wish we could be right there, right next to you, in person. Maybe we're not with you in person but know our support and comfort remain right with you. Keep writing. I hope the written word reminds you that you have our support and comfort.