That Moment

They said it would happen, but I couldn't believe them.  The pain consumed me and grief fogged my thoughts.  Death seemed to be right around the corner.  There was simply no way I would survive such a profound loss.

Suicide shatters.

My life and the person I was before Dude's death lay in a million pieces on the floor. There would be no way to rebuild without cracks in this new puzzle.  The new puzzle otherwise known as my life after Dude's death.

At first, it took every breath I had to make it through the day.  The excruciating pain harbored in my heart made me question how many breaths I had left.  People I would now consider my dearest friends rushed to my side.  They wanted to help.  I wanted them there too, but could not articulate the help I needed.  A hug. The freedom to cry. Food I may or may not be able to eat. I begged people -  please, PLEASE do not tell me to be happy or to remember the good times.  Remembering Dude loved me was hard enough.  Now was the time to feel however I wanted to feel, and I hated that I felt like I had to ask permission to express my feelings.  I gravitated towards those who gave me a pass to be who I needed to be no matter how ugly that looked. 

Why was I still here? Why did he leave me behind? What was my purpose? What are my dreams? You have to ask those questions because asking why Dude took his own life or what more I could have done to prevent this is a vicious cycle.  I never believed this could be a reality, but he did.  He took care of me despite his own pain.  I did everything I could to help him and show him how much I loved him.  He was thankful and I'm thankful, too. 

Suicide shatters but God redeems.

God put the right people by my side and in my life.  He awakened a dream I had put to bed many years ago.  He opened my eyes to the small things that bring beauty to life. The last two years have not been without struggle.  Who sues LSAC before going to law school? I do.  Who got rejected from every law school to which she applied?  I did.  But none of that was as bad as Dude's death.  And my support structure remained in tact. Dude had given up (or rather, decided to end the pain).  I couldn't.  I wouldn't.  I had to press on.

My friend has whisked me away to NYC for some fun.  Another planned some wonderful weekends in Texas.  My parents and I have been able to travel.  I thank God every day for my newest mentor and our strong bond.  My acceptance and scholarships to law school. The overwhelming response to Dude's fundraising campaign.  Mary and her wisdom. These blessings and many more are not lost on me.

Every day I think about Dude. This experience is life changing and will not go away.  But... slowly but surely joy mixes in with the pain. They said it would happen, but I couldn't believe them.

I can smile without tears in my eyes (most of the time).  I can laugh without feeling guilty.  I can remember Dude saying he wanted all my dreams to come true and I can chase after those dreams no matter how crazy others think I am.  I can remember that he loved me, love him, and still more forward. 

They said it would happen.  I couldn't believe them. But, they were right.  That moment you realize you are embracing your new life is SWEET.

In a month, I will embark on a new adventure.  One that Dude went on before me.  I could have never predicted my life would be like this.  The last two years have been horrific yet redeeming. 

I'm nervous and scared and excited for what's to come.  But I know God is picking up those pieces and building a new life for me. There will be cracks - but those cracks. They leave room for the love and light of God and Dude to shine through.