Trapped in a time where memories bring me to different places, I find myself sometimes stuck with the most surrealistic feelings about where I am. This morning I simply could not believe the events of what can still be measured as days ago could have possibly happened. Its an unsettling situation to be sure because the morning before today I awoke completely drenched in the grief of everything that did happen days ago. It makes one a bit uncertain as they walk out the front door of the house and into the world outside.
It’s been days inside the house. I cannot describe how comforting it has been to have friends stopping in. I don’t have to talk if I don’t want to… they just walk in and give big hugs. What is nice is we do talk. They understand what is happening, and they even share our grief. Chelsea Rose Murphy touched us all, and we have so many great experiences with Chelsea to share with each other. We laugh, we cry, we joke… …we remember. In doing so, they participate in our healing which we so desperately need. …and for a number of them, so do they.
This wasn’t something I even fully recognized a few days ago, and that was because I was in the house. Often with my friends.
…but yesterday I ventured back out into the world. It is necessary. I have a job. I have responsibilities. I have this office to tend to, stacks of paper to sign, or more apt – many unread emails filling my inbox at work. I understand, I need to be here…
…even so I miss being in the house. I miss my interactions being with just my friends…
…because with my friends I don’t have to come across an awkward pause in a conversation where someone stumbles looking for words with which to extend their sympathies. I don’t have to acknowledge whatever they’ve said, and its not that I didn’t hear it, I did. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate it either. I’m doing my level best to work and focus with people I have a professional relationship with and that momentarily awkward experience attempts to open a much more personal door that I prefer to keep closed to all but my friends.
I understand of course. Ultimately we are all people. We are human. Being empathetic beings compels a sympathetic outreach.
So I accept what I am able. Actually, it is more true to say I accept all of it. …and grateful for it, even if elements of interaction attempt to veer from the professional interactions which I desire in a question that truly can only be answered by expressing my feelings and love for my step daughter Chelsea. Which is not what I am at work to do, nor is it even necessary if things could stay professional.
…and that brings me back to my friends. I like my friends the best. I don’t have to talk about anything if I don’t want to. …but ultimately I find I want to talk with them. They are so cool to talk to. I don’t have to feel happy and I don’t have to smile. …but ultimately I find they bring me to laughter. It is so fun to laugh with them. My friends can bring me from one extreme back to the other, effortlessly… …not even perhaps being aware that they are doing so, but they are just the same with their presence. They give comfort to what is uncomfortable. They bring relief to pain. They are salve to an open wound. For the time they share their presence, life is great.
There are a lot of people at work that I have to talk to today. …or walk by in the hallway. …or give the surprising “Yeah, not great” answer to the standard question “How Are You Doing?”. It seemingly shocks everyone.
…but it wouldn’t for my friends.
I like my friends the best.