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Reality of Everything
Dear reader, the first thing that you should realize about me is that I express the truth. This may suggest that my way of explaining things is grim, but that is never my intention. I simply wish to show everyone the way things really are.
My apologies. How rude of me. Let me introduce myself. I am reality. No, not the kind of reality that you see on television. Those shows are more ironic than anything else. No. I am that rude awakening when you realize that you’ve been slacking off in class. That moment when it strikes you that your childhood is coming to a close. Or when you realize that death is inevitable. I am what no one seems to want to accept as true. That, however, doesn’t make me any less real. I am here. I exist, whether you or anyone else likes it or not.
Today, I have not appeared to you out of nowhere. I appear with a purpose only. So, what do I want with you? Do I want to dangle harsh depressing truths in front of your very nose? Do I want to engrave things that you want in the back of your mind, into your pupils? Answer: of course not! I wish that I could be more delightful at times, and there are times when I am, but it seems like I’m needed the most during the darkest hours.
When tragedy struck, I was drawn to a small town in the rural parts of a rather large country. Tear stained people sat together at a long rectangular table, sharing happy memories and stories of a recently departed member of their family.
“How would you describe him in one word?” An outsider asked, with warm affection echoing in her voice.
An older woman, plump in her own distinction, sat back and smiled slightly. Her eyes were dry, but her soul said a different story. “Everything,” she said loud and clearly, not wanting anyone to interpret what she was saying as something else. Nothing more came out of her mouth.
Everyone else, wide eyed, smiled back, acknowledging the gifts that their father and grandfather had bestowed upon them throughout their entire lives. They also searched for their own words that could describe the kind of person that he was. Nothing came to mind as something that was just as accurate as what their mother and grandmother had said. He was everything to her: her husband, father of her children, best friend...everything. It was this that let her children and grandchild realize that he was half of the reason of their very existence and made up of what kind of person that they all became.
Words were thrown about. Words such as kind and loving, but everyone knew that no other word could as accurately depict him as “everything” already had. All of this could be beneficial one’s soul. The dearly departed has the ability the teach lessons about the lives of our own. You may decide that you're unhappy with the path you're leading, and change it, either to please the deceased or to please me, reality. Or, you may learn to willingly let go of the past and appreciate the present. But, many have turned bitter and stalked the past in their own personal alley ways, smelling of stale disappointment.
However, the surviving members of the family were all noble. None of them wished to succumb to such a fate. Yet, they did struggle. This is where I wished to help. But he’s still gone. Constant thoughts flowed through the minds of the majority of his children and grandchildren. The grandmother helped. She had much of me inside of her. Being ninety years old, she had seen a lot of me in her lifetime and had grown to accept all that I brought to world.
She sat at the front of the table, poised with admiration for life, she said, “I just hope that I don’t have to be around much longer.” The entirety of the table stared at her with their mouths ajar. They simply couldn't believe what the woman had just said. For all of their lives she had been a firecracker, absolutely buzzing with life and energy. But, now she was living with the hopes that her life wouldn’t stretch on for much longer. No one wanted to accept what they had just heard.
Me? I smiled. No, I did not like hearing that the woman wish for her life to come to a close, but knowing the reason why warmed me a little. This person that she had loved so dearly had brought so much to her life and now that he was gone, she felt as though it was complete. She also didn’t want to live in a world where he no longer existed. There is beauty in that. That’s true love.
I have seen others like this is well. Couples, siblings, friends. It doesn’t matter what gender, race, religion, sexual orientation anyone is. True love swells through everyone’s lives. What does matter is if you take advantage of it and let it grow and thrive inside of you. That’s what this woman did. She embraced the life she built with him and flourished in it. Now that he was gone, the love still existed, and that pained her. As it did to her children and grandchildren.
That’s me, however. I can puncture a heart and force it to bleed. But, with time I can cause it to scab over. It will never be the same and can be fatal. Though, if you survive me, things will be put into perspective.
This woman’s heart had scabbed over several times in her life and she wanted this to be the last time. I could respect that. The pain in her loved one’s eyes caused me to think otherwise. But the fact is, everyone dies. No one gets to decide when, I know, but I understand the pain and the hardship of the people left behind.
“Mom,” her youngest daughter sighed and placed her clammy hand on top of her mother’s. “Please, don’t say things like that.” “Dad’s gone,” the woman replied with complete structure to her tone. “He isn’t ever coming back. That’s the reality of it. I loved him with everything I had. I’m not sure what point there is left after this.”
Now, on most occasions, I would strongly discourage interpreting strange occurrences as something that I truly offered. But in that moment the woman could have sworn that she felt a swell of energy swiftly touch her back. She didn’t know what to think of it, but she knew what she wanted it to be. She smiled, as did I.
Sometimes reality can seem false, but that doesn’t make it so.
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This selection was inspired by the night before my grandfather's funeral.