What happened to me this weekend

I took another step towards surrender. I closed my eyes and envisioned all the fear that comes from the past and I shrunk it down to a manageable size. Then I saw myself put it on a shelf and brush my hands. I thought "this is what happened to me in the past and I will never forget it, but I will not live inside it anymore"

Old habits die hard. Lessons learned are often harsh and large in the beginning. I decided it was time to turn those huge, insurmountable fears and warnings into something sizeable and understandable. I made my fears become lessons, instead of obstacles.

It was hard.

I wanted to scream, throw things, beg for silence, run away, hide, etc

Mostly I wanted to say "stop it. Don't pull me down this path. This road leads to pain and agony. I've been there before and it hurt.
But an answer came to me: "yes, but you went before like a child; being lead laughing and ignoring all wisdom. You went like a child and you had your innocence shattered in the process. You are not a child anymore, trust yourself this time"

So I let it go. I remembered that I gain nothing from running away. I remembered that I am happiest when moving forward. I remembered that I never turn away love. I let it go and said "yes, this is what I want" and although the fear still lives inside me, I meant what I said. Because I am not my fear.

Sweet surrender.

Jill Baker: 1968-1984

I still mourn. I once sat in the office of a therapist and at some point I was crying over the death of my best friend which happened when I was barely 18 years old.

"does it ever go away?" I asked sobbing "does it ever stop hurting?"

very softly, she said "no. Sometimes it hurts for the rest of your life. Sometimes it never goes away, but that's good. Would you want to ever forget her or how much she meant to you?"

"of course not," I said.

"you'll learn, over time, how to deal with it better, but it will never really go away, not if you truly loved her"

Of course, it's been 19 years since she died and it still hurts just as much as it ever did. When I truly think about it, and remember that night, that phone call, all that screaming. all that numbness, all that disbelief, it still hurts just as painfully, just as raw, just as jumbled, just as sharply and just as wrenching as it did that night.
I deal, though.

She was right. Some pains never go away. Some pains pile on top of other, similar, pains and keep on digging at you. Every now and then, you stop and mourn again. It seems like you'll never cry enough, whether your tears are on the outside or the inside.

I'll never forget her. I think about her once every day. Most times it's fine and good because I'm thinking about the wonderful stuff, and how great it was to have her as my friend. Once in a while, though, I think about how much it hurt me when she died. A part of me was killed that night. A part I'll never get back. That's okay, though, because that part belonged to her and it's right that it should die with her.

But I still miss her. I'll never stop. That's okay too. My therapist was right; I did learn to deal with it, but I'll never stop mourning.

For Jill, yes I still love you, even after all these years. I told you I would.