You Are Not Alone

I woke up this morning and it was 59 degrees. If you live in central Texas you know that 59 degrees at the end of May is a rare treat. It had me in a good mood. After meditation and breakfast I made my way over to Cody Library. Since it was such a beautiful morning i decided I would drive all the way up Vance Jackson and take my time. On the way I heard You Are Not Alone by Michael Jackson and all I could think about was Uvalde. Grief. It is insidious and painful. You wake up, and for a moment you don’t remember, then the truth hits and it feels like a punch in the chest.

Another day has gone

I'm still all alone

How could this be?

You're not here with me

You never said goodbye

Someone tell me why

Did you have to go?

And leave my world so cold

It’s interesting how people grieve. Some turn everything off and get quiet while others search frantically for connection and answers. Some do both. I’ve spent time reading other’s thoughts, writing, contemplating, walking, praying. I’m feeling so grateful that it was a beautiful morning. I got to the library and it was still closed. I found a good spot and set up my easel. Not long after folks started showing up. It’s a busy place. It makes me happy to see patrons lined up outside, waiting to return books or use the computer. Someone pulled up on their bike and locked it to the bike rack by the flag pole, which was at half mast. 

It didn’t take me long to paint. I did a simple study of the building and had good lines to work with. The building was back lit which added some drama. A few people came up to see what I was up to. People are always kind, always supportive. It helps. Even the simplest encouragement, ‘Looks good so far,’ makes my morning. I’m not sure if I would approach a painter. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone in a library parking lot with an easel. Maybe downtown where the tourists are but not at Vance Jackson and Heubner. 

Everyday I sit and ask myself

How did love slip away?

Something whispers in my ear and says

I’ve been thinking a lot about pain and suffering, about life ripping the rug out from under you. It gets in your cells, in your flesh, then you’re always wondering, is it going to happen again? Can I be prepared next time? Can I keep it from happening again? Is this it, again? I never lost a child or a loved one, but I have a B.C./A.D. life. I had a life before trauma and I’ve had a life since. The person I lost was myself and in almost thirty years I’ve never seen her again. We never said goodbye.

Somehow I kept going. I’m not sure how. I guess my Higher Power did for me what I couldn’t do for myself. But I managed to keep living, to get up and look for something to hang on to. Eventually I found hope. I found a reason to live again. So many of my 49 years have been spent in survival mode and learning to surrender has been one of the greatest gifts I’ve received. Hope and optimism were like food for an emaciated soul.

You are not alone

I am here with you

Though you're far away

I am here to stay

You are not alone

I am here with you

Though we're far apart

You're always in my heart

You are not alone

I came to realize that it doesn’t matter the source of love, just that it’s love. What I needed to heal was to know that I’m not alone, that I’m loved, that my existence matters. Other humans couldn’t do that for me. I found so many supportive people over the years - friends, therapists, sponsors - but I had to find my worth on my own. I had to find love on my own. I had to look inward to find what I needed and when I did it was the beginning of yet another beginning. Not as dramatic as my A.D. beginning, but I found a new reason to keep going.

I spent a lot of time searching yesterday. I was looking for connection and answers. I wanted to grieve with others as much as I could. I’m glad I did. I’m glad I found others who were feeling as frustrated and anguished as I was. I am thinking a lot about our neighbors down the road, knowing the path of grief, knowing it’s not insurmountable. And although I can send donations, stuffed animals, food, prayers, I know that what they need isn’t something I can provide. Perhaps I can demonstrate it. Perhaps I can be a model of knowing, hold a knowing that may be alluding them right now: You are not alone.