Trigger Warning: Real, honest, raw talk about grief…
Grief is such a strange thing. Just when you think you’ve made it through the worst, it attacks again, overwhelming.
I am one year into my grief journey over losing my best friend. It has been a tough year, as I have questioned whether I was a “good enough” friend. Our time together seems so unfinished, as she passed away at only 40, having battled breast cancer for 11 months. Our friendship seems so unfinished…
A Grief Attack…
On 28 July 2019, I was struggling… Honestly, I was completely overwhelmed. I had been battling to keep a grief attack away for nearly two weeks. And it finally won.
As I sat alone, crying in the bathroom, I thought of the letters that Stephanie Joy Phillips asked us to write for WCW 2019, “Letters from Our Hearts – Forgiving Ourselves.” I thought, why not write a letter from my heart to help me through this current grief? So, I did. Right then, while crying in the bathroom.
Sharing this letter is hard. It’s so personal. It’s so raw. I typed it into a note on my phone. I’ve made no corrections nor edits. No modifications. These are the words that flowed from my heart in the darkness of the night…
A Letter from My Heart: Forgiving Myself…
Dear Brandi,
Where do I begin? I know your grief has been deep this past year. I know your heart has broken into a million pieces. I know you’ve cried more tears than I can count. I know you wonder why and just can’t make sense of this loss…
And I know you feel guilt. Guilt questioning whether you called enough, texted enough. Guilt about whether you said the right thing. Guilt about being too far away. Guilt about not taking that trip…
You wonder if you were a good enough friend. If you did enough. If I felt your love…
You know, if I’m honest, you didn’t always say the right thing. But I knew you were doing your best in an impossible situation. I knew you were trying… No one really said the right thing. But I was grateful they tried…
I do wish you had been closer. You were… You are my friend. Of course I wanted you near… But I hold no grudges that your life was elsewhere. As you always say, love can cross the miles.
As for the trip… You had plans of your own. A life of your own to live. And you believed we had time… It’s okay that you weren’t there. I didn’t want to tell you we really didn’t have time. I didn’t want to believe that myself.
And as for whether you were a good enough friend… Of course you were, Brandi. Because you did your best. You checked in, you sent notes, you texted, you wrote on FB, you flew halfway across the country three different times to visit, and you prayed… You did everything you could. You loved me then, and you love me still.
Please, stop worrying over the past. It cannot be changed. Live. Live life for me and for you. Don’t waste another moment wishing you could change things that you cannot. Change things you can… Look forward, live boldly, love deeply. I am with you in spirit always…
And as for forgiveness… I will not say that I forgive you. Because there is nothing to forgive. We had some beautiful moments together. Remember those. Do not allow the guilt, the lies, to diminish the truth of our friendship.
Breathe in, breathe out, and release the pain…
Sending you so many purple hearts…
Love,
Me
Rest…
After writing those words, this letter from my heart, I went to bed and slept over nine hours. The next day, I was gentle with myself… Yes, I made the conscious effort not to call myself “lazy.” Rather, I allowed myself time to recover from my grief attack.
Remember…
At my beautiful friend’s memorial service, the pastor said, “We do not grieve for our loved one because we know she is in a far better place, no longer ill with cancer. We grieve for ourselves and what we have lost.” He looked straight at me as he spoke those words. I was battling not to ugly cry, and my body was shaking as tears streamed down my face. When I’m struggling all over again (like recently), I go back to those words. I know my friend is joyful… That brings me comfort. And yet, selfishly, I wish she were still here with me. I wish our friendship was not unfinished… I wish I didn’t have to miss her for the rest of my days…
Realize…
But my wishes will not change reality. So, I will continue down this path… I will keep her memory alive. I will live my best life for both of us. And I will try to remember that I did my best. My friend knew I loved her. She didn’t focus on my shortcomings, my mistakes… She didn’t keep a record of wrongs. And neither should I.
She was a perfect friend. I was not. But I did my best. And in the end, I have to realize, I have to believe, that my not-so-perfect best was enough.
Fabulous one…
No matter your journey—whether it has included infertility, miscarriage, infant loss, pregnancy loss, child loss, divorce, addiction, illness, depression, anxiety, or death—please know that you did your best. Forgive yourself for any shortcomings you feel you have or mistakes you feel you’ve made. You did your best, fabulous one. Embrace yourself as you are—the beautifully broken, fragile mess, wild child, goddess that is the imperfectly perfect, uniquely you…
If anything I wrote resonates with you, fabulous one, please tell us about it in the comments.
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I was inspired to write this blog when I received the World Childless Week Newsletter announcing the themes for WCW 2019. If you’d like to read more letters from our hearts, check out The 3rd Annual World Childless Week, held Sept 16-22, 2019.
Featured Photo: A photo of me taken by my hubby
*My best friend’s favorite place on this earth was the beach. For this blog post, it seemed only fitting that I share this photo of me, standing alone, as I look out over the vastness that is the ocean…
2 comments
Beautiful. Thank you. x
Thank you for reading.