Saturday, March 7, 2009

A bittersweet symphony, this life

Change is a funny thing, our reaction to it even funnier. Not funny “ha ha” but funny ironic. When faced with positive life altering events, whether leaving one high profile career for another or a move cross country, we want to hear a chorus of support from those who love us.

“You can do it!”

“What a great opportunity”

“I’m so happy for you”

On the flip side, however, there’s a tiny whisper of inner voice that craves hearing something else.

“Please stay”

“Don’t leave me here all alone”

“It could never be the same without you”

We just want to know that like a snowflake or a thumbprint, there’s no one else quite like us, definitely no replacement. Yeah, you're the real thing. Even better than the real thing, child.

When my brother died suddenly and violently, wrapping my head around the situation seemed impossible. I couldn’t make peace with the realization of no more time to build a grown-up relationship, or one at all.

“You’re not grieving for him, you’re grieving for yourself”

Of course, not entirely but certainly. Because when others change, whether positive movement or sadly permanent loss, we absorb and measure the effects of not moving along with them, or no longer having them by our side.

Change is a funny thing.

2 comments:

Pearl said...

Jodie, I think you're exactly right.
Those that die (and I'm sorry about your brother, btw) leave us behind to go on without them.
We all want to be heard, missed, to believe that we are singular.
You seem really contemplative today. Hope everything is okay with you...
Pearl

Jodie Kash said...

@Pearl - A good deal contemplative of late. Perhaps it’s due to spring and all the yoga.

Actually, the blog came to me because a friend who leads a popular local band got an amazing opportunity to tour with a national act, leaving a large fan base here. Got me thinking about change and how branches of friends and acquaintances react to it.

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