Truth in the news
I found an unusual quotation in the news today, in a story about a young woman who was out hiking, and was murdered and decapitated.
The family spokesperson, her godmother, said what people always say in these situations: "We are glad she’s found. This brings some sort of closure for us." The not knowing is a burden of its own, no question; but the hard road is merely beginning for these folks. The loss will be hard enough; it can only be complicated by the violent manner of her passing. But of course, they said what is expected to be said. No surprises there.
The surprise lay in the comments of her boyfriend, now a young widower, and it is probably the most honest expression of grief I have ever seen in the news.
"It’s crippling," Meredith Emerson’s boyfriend, Steve Segars, told CNN’s Nancy Grace.
"She is the single most brilliant thing I’ve ever known," he added. "She was the best thing this world had left to give and the fact that we are without her, and the world is without her, as a result of the flippant actions of somebody who was able to gain her trust is a pretty big deal."
"Crippling" is the word for it. Many people die when one person dies, and they literally have to learn how to live again. I myself feel like I’ve finally gotten to a place where I am living again, rather than just surviving. I’m not doing it with 100% commitment or success, but something is in the process of changing. I can feel it. I’m actually feeling a great deal of okayness overall, though I will cop to having a fair number of tough days during the holidays, and in anticipation of my annual trip to California coming up. I think what’s happening is that I’m truly settling into the "new normal," which is a little unsettling, actually. I’m not sure how to act, what to feel. I suppose there’s a part of me that rebels against accepting the new normal in protest of the involuntary nature of my arrival in a strange country I never had any intention of visiting, but there is a greater part of me that is relieved to be free of the relentless pain and sadness. I always miss him, but that doesn’t consistently morph into a heavy sadness anymore. I’m still finding my way, but I’m confident I will, even if I’ve no clue how. I figure my only job is to keep breathing; the rest will take care of itself. It seems to have thus far.