Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders round as ravens claws. Jim Morrison

I have experienced the full spectrum of human emotions, but the one I have a closest relationship with is grief. The number of loved ones that I have lost over the years is sadly a long list. Within the time frame of October 2007 to September 2008, I lost four members of my immediate family. The first was a beloved uncle. The next month was my father. Five moths to the day later I lost my brother-in-law, someone that I considered my own brother. The last was my mother-in-law, a woman that I had come to think of as a second mother.

Each one left a scar. Each one left me feeling exhausted and drained. Each death left me feeling as if I couldn’t breathe and just as I was regaining the ability to do so again, the wind was knocked out of me again. Planning funerals and standing at the head of caskets to receive those that had come to pay their last respects was something that I hated.

Anyone that has ever taken the time to truly know me, would be able to tell you, that one of the things that I loathe the most in life is crying in front of others. Well, strangers, anyway. I hate having people look at me with pity and pat me on the back and trying to offer help in the form of kind words. I don’t hate the people that are simply trying to help. No, I hate that I am showing weakness in front others. For, in my mind, whether it is true or not, I feel that people are always looking for weakness in me. As if they are just waiting for the right moment to pounce and rip my throat out.

Sadly, I have experienced similar things in my life with more that a few people over the years. I have had so many knives plunged into my back by those that I loved and those that I thought that I could trust, that I should have bled out, long ago. I had hoped that the revolving door of death in my life would make me numb to a new one, but as of yet, it has not happened.

Truthfully, I don’t know what I feel about death and loss. When it first happens, I feel shock. Then as it slowly began to sink in, the sadness would start out as if there was a piece of ice in the center of my chest. The ice would then spread and a coldness would fill me, to the point, that I never thought I would feel warmth again. The next part was the worst, the moment when you realize that this person that you loved, this person that you secretly believed would be with you forever, is truly gone and once that coffin closes for the last time, you will never see them again.

My father died November 19th, 2007 and even now, I feel as if I could go to his house and find him sitting in his recliner watching TV. There are still those moments, when I catch myself reaching for the phone to call him. There are still times, when I hear something funny and before I can stop myself, I catch myself thinking about how I will tell him about it. It’s those times that bring the grief rushing back in, making me to relive those first moments after his death all over again. Of course, it’s not just my father, but he is the one that has come to my mind, in such a way the most.

My father was a man and I loved him deeply, although he didn’t always make that easy. I made a decision after he died, that I would focus on the positive parts of our relationship, instead of the things that he did that hurt me. I know that his struggle with alcoholism made him do things that he would not normally do. And while that’s not an excuse to mistreat someone, everyone has their own demons and they are not always easily conquered.

The silliest thing about the emotions that I suffered while dealing with the deaths of those that I loved, were the times that I felt bad for feeling good. I would find myself enjoying a movie I was watching or a book that I was reading and then suddenly I would be slammed with guilt, because I had allowed myself to do something other that suffer. It sounds completely idiotic when I really think about it, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened.

We live, we die, no one here gets out alive. I want to believe that I will see my loved ones again, one day. But, there are times, when I am not sure whether I truly believe it or I just need the comfort in thinking it is true.

What happens when we die? I have no clue. Is there a paradise waiting for us on the other side. I don’t know that, either. But, whether it is true or not, I will still allow myself to believe it, nonetheless. Because whether it’s true or isn’t, we all need something to give us hope or else life is not worth living.