Because of Brian

“I wish you would come back.” I say that to myself whispering it under my breath more times a day than I can count. I say it as if somehow the words might breathe you back to life again.

My mind knows better. It knows that you in your truest sense never really left but the missing of your physical presence is difficult to accept. Learning how to reach for you, to find solace in the space which divides us is by far the biggest challenge of your physically not being here.

One’s psyche immediately moves back in time to moments and memories of when you were here trying to capture every piece of your essence. At the same time, it tries to quiet itself to find the spirit which now exists and never left at all.

I hear you my boy, but I still wish that you would come back. I will probably whisper it to you forever.

The above was written early on after the loss of Brian. I was reminded of it this week when speaking to a family member about my brother who left us just under two years ago. He said that he kept waiting for him to stick his head around the corner and say, “just kidding.” That it was all a bad joke.

Coping with the physical aspect of loss is by far the most difficult challenge. It never goes away. There simply is no replacing it. It’s been my experience, that the only way to begin to deal with it is to continue the relationship. Never stop talking to them. Never “accept” that they are not here for they are, and that they will let you know. It will be different, it will not always be on queue, but it was always be filled with love. That, you get to keep.

I am digressing a bit from the topic that I started in previous posts but will get back to it, I promise! As of late something else has been coming to my attention a lot. The topic of what people say (or do not say) when someone is in the depths of grief has reared its head multiple times. I’ve encountered it in conversations with those who have recently lost loved ones as well as other blogs, articles, and the like. Since, it’s been swirling around in my head bringing me here. So, for what it’s worth, this is what I take it from it all.

WHAT SHOULD I SAY? We all know that for most of us it can be uncomfortable dealing with grief and tears. We don’t want to say the wrong thing and I’ve touched on this before. However, it’s unacceptable to say nothing. You can’t pretend it just didn’t happen by walking by or trying to go on with business as if you don’t know. They know you know. Your words won’t suddenly make them remember that their loved one is gone. If your moment of kindness brings a few tears, it’s OKAY! Tears are human and they were going to cry them at some point anyway. Share them with them and move forward. Be human. Be kind.

Say….”I am so very sorry”

Say….”I am here, I can listen”

Say…”I am so sorry for your pain”

If you knew the person who died, share a remembrance. This is a wonderful way to bring smiles with tears.

Say… SOMETHING.

A lot of people seem to have an issue with “I’m sorry for your loss.” Personally, I don’t have a problem with it. I suppose it can seem generic and trite, but it is indeed a loss and if it comes from a kind place it’s certainly better than saying nothing at all.

That’s it. In a nutshell, don’t ignore it, ever. Say something – you are human, they are human. You will find common ground. Be kind. It’s easier than you think. You will walk away better for it.

While the subject of connection with a loved one who is no longer living amongst us in this world is fascinating to most people, you will find that there lies a line of plausible believability. That which you can wrap your mind around and that which you cannot. You will find that there is a threshold for most people of what seems possible and what does not. Even I have my tipping point of what falls heavy on the “crazy” meter when I hear it.

In a recent post, “How Does it Happen,” I began to explain some of the ways in which our loved ones who have passed on may make some sort of contact with us. You might want to do a quick review but here are the ones I laid out for quick reference.

Personally, I have had experiences with all of these but the reason that this blog exists is to tell the stories and most of those fall within the category of astral projection/travel. It’s taken years and still much courage to go forth with this exercise but here we are.

There are oodles of books on the subject which I found once it began to happen to me on a more regular basis. Understand, that this was something that I did not seek. While I had experienced the phenomena once or twice in my childhood/teen years and then again in my early adult hood, it was not common, and nothing ever really occurred to make me look further into it. It did not seem to last long and wasn’t alarming in any way. It was just a sort of “out of body experience” and was always peaceful. No harm no foul.

Upon my divorce in the mid 2000’s, I was in a very bad place emotionally. I was betrayed, sad and afraid of what was to come. This was the first time I had an astral experience of significance. It was an early morning in 2007 when I felt it begin to happen through no effort of my own. A sort of “lift out” of my body and seeing myself lying there. I had complete conscious thought and knew that I wasn’t dying because it had happened before. I felt a presence with me. It was loving and kind. It held me as we left my home and flew over landscapes I was unfamiliar with. I knew that it was male though I never saw his face. He was reassuring and kind. I saw faces of people whom I did not know but were so happy to see me, all smiling and radiating love, waving as we passed by them. Eventually, we stopped, my feet hit ground and he let go, where I was able to run with childlike abandon. I could see and feel onlookers, the people we had passed over watching from nearby windows in this unknown place, this place which seemed to represent a new life, all still sending love and approval. I felt him beaming as I did and the joy in my heart made it feel as if it would burst. After some time, like a parent, he told me we had to go but that my life would be ok, that I would feel like that again. I told him that I didn’t want to, but he took me anyway and I was returned to my room and softly placed back into reality. I could only put my hands over my face and cry at the astonishment of what had just happened.

I was not asleep; it was not a dream. I can attest to that from years now of more like experiences. After taking some time to absorb what I went through, I shared what happened with my mother and no one else. I still do that now when they occur. It takes time to just take it in before being able to talk about it. It did not honestly happen again, that I remember, until losing Brian. That would be 7-8 years later. Those stories are amazing, funny, and numerous. They are the direction of this blog and where I believe, the difference in my story lies.

So there, the proverbial band aid is off. Crazy maybe but it happened, it happened some more, and it still happens from time to time. I will take the gift that it is and embrace it for what it is. For what it is, crazy and all, gives much.