As I sit with my BFF (Best Friend Forever), we watch the rain bounce upon the pavement through his office window. Our hands are tightly wrapped around our ceramic mugs, not because it’s particularly cold, but more for its consoling gesture. With a subtle hint of wood burning in the air, it most certainly feels like fall. As I watch the sky heave, it seems to reflect how I feel as though Mother Nature is bearing the burden of my grief.
“What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger” - Friedrich Nietzsche. This quote is so ingrained within our society that it’s become a stock phrase for hard times. I know that I, myself, have said it and as much as it annoys me, there’s actual truth in those words. Yes, any time that I overcome an obstacle, a travesty, I am stronger, savvier. Here’s the thing, my point of contention, I’m so frigging strong as is who needs to be stronger?
I’ve made a commitment to share my fears in hopes that there is some thin veil of a lesson. How easy it is when I share from retrospect. It’s censored. It’s safe. However, I’m not a fan of safe. How can I grow if I stay with what is comforting rather than what challenges me? Oh, yah, I can’t. So, here I am sharing my thoughts and experiences as I face my greatest fear, the death of my mother, my best friend and most certainly, a soulmate.