Despair

I once read somewhere…

“Don’t forget you’re human. It’s okay to have a meltdown once in a while. Just don’t unpack and live there. Cry it out and then refocus on where you’re headed.”

Wise sentiment.

My second cousin’s mother—who, according to the internet, would be my first cousin once removed—passed away on January 31st. “T” was like a sister to my mom. They spent much of their childhood together, and our families have remained close over the years.

Among “T’s” many wonderful qualities was her ability to remain positive, no matter what life handed her. She lost both parents at a young age, and later endured the tragedy of losing a brother in an unnatural way. And yet, you’d never know such darkness lived in her past. She was always smiling, always laughing—the kind of laugh that made you feel good even if you’d just walked into the room with no idea what was so funny. You just felt good. Being in her presence was enough.

Over the last few days, the family has said goodbye. She leaves too soon. I can actually imagine heaven being a bit brighter now that she’s there. But down here, the day feels heavy.

I took this picture yesterday.

Cold and dark was the day. An empty bench seemed to capture the sentiment of perfect loneliness. And yet the shadowy gloom and glossy waters still draw one in. I think. It did me.

Despair. Stay for just awhile.