Pain is a many-layered thing. At one level it's uncomfortable, difficult to deal with, hard to cope and infinitely avoidable. At another, it's soothing, comfortable, seductive and easy. At yet another, it's universal, inescapable and the only absolute truth. Are there degrees? I am not sure. But the one thing that I know is, to the sufferer it's very real and there are many expressions of it. The pain of losing someone is real as is a bleeding finger. But pain at times is not this explicit. I have found that the most difficult of them all.
Now, where am I going with this?
Today, I was hit with news of bereavement in the morning. First, a message from someone I was once close to, that spoke of his recent loss of a parent. Despite everything that went wrong in our relationship (if one can even call it that) the news hurt deeply. It hurt, for I have known loss. It hurt, because even as an adult I look up to my parents for guidance and support. They are my anchors, emotional and otherwise. Though our everyday relationship is transactional, I draw comfort from knowing that they are there for me. Knowing that this loss is inevitable doesn’t ease the pain. And knowing that they are irreplaceable hurts even more.
Then came a mail from some one I revere. He had written about his child, who he is close to losing. He wrote about the joy of having someone special in his life and the pain of knowing that he has to let him go. This brought back a host of memories. An oft-remembered anguished journey through desolation and despair.
Yes, I have seen life and death from close quarters and it sure ain’t pretty.
Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings,
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down.
I held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it but just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut.