Tag: love

Hug your family tighter, they always say, after a tragedy. Someone else’s loss resonates deeply within me, unsettling, it could have been us, and my spirit feels guilty for surviving. I continue with my life while someone else is stuck in the throes of grief. I have the opportunity, again, to appreciate the life that surrounds me. Reminded of my own mortality and that of those I love, I become alive — again. I am lucky, but luck, much like life, is temporary.

I think of loved ones who have left this earth and the ghosts of words unsaid echo in my mind. Did they know how much they meant to me before they passed? Did they know my life was made better because they were a part of it? Do those here know how much they mean to me, because what good are the words after they’re gone? I’m haunted by the thought of them not knowing and I want to tear open my chest, expose my heart and declare “I am so lucky to have you in my life!”

Except, there’s a certain vulnerability that comes from revealing one’s feelings, even when they are completely reciprocated. And I stop. Maybe they know, even though I haven’t explicitly said it. Maybe every time I seek them out, they know. Maybe each time I visit with them, they know. Maybe each time I send them a message, they know. Maybe.

I heard once, when we hold back compliments we are keeping them from the person the words belong to. I think it works the same way for words of appreciation. I can choose to become the barrier of my appreciative thoughts or I can give them to the person they belong to. I’m beginning to see my appreciative thoughts as an opportunity to brighten a moment, but also to alleviate future guilt — I don’t want to miss it.

Maybe soon, I’ll actually say them. 

I’m trying to be better.