Beautifully Broken

Remembering Ryan

12/07/87 ~ 2/23/93

Beautifully broken

Searching for validation, she set forth on a journey to fill the blank spaces cast upon her, emptiness engraved on her soul carrying the pain unleashed from loss; death stole another slice of her heart and soon the fragments she battled to preserve are scattered debris encircling her.

Seeking a powerful concoction to mend the heartbreak and heal the broken pieces, she waited, but grief does not emerge with an explanation. Tormented by the sadness and unable to mend the ache that afflicted her, she cultivated habits to wish time away, praying for the day to arrive when she could laugh without crying, feel joy without guilt and truly let go of the breath she kept holding.

Hesitating on this twisted path of bereavement while oblivious to the steps of survival, grief suspended time as it introduced the awkward trench she was required to wade.

Storming in angrily, carrying resentment while embracing calm, grief distributed a disguise for each emotion she attempted to wrangle, impelling her forward and back, elevated then collapsed, always one step ahead on this turbulent path.

This narrative she never imagined in her life, immersed within the waves that crushed her spirit, she plummets to the ground. Anesthetized in shock, traipsing through anguish the only way she knows how. Writing him the stories of her heart with the remains once held together by love, now tethered in sorrow.

People who once surrounded her begin to fall away, yet she still lingers in despair. Here, where grief gets real; she stands alone, cradling the shambles of her life, still unable to maneuver. Each day as she wakes to the shock of this new reality as those with their undisturbed lives slowly fade from the scene.

Ruminating with the scattered pieces she is captured by the process of grief until finally she assembles a course to guide her through. Ready for comfort she reaches into the fog to recall her broken identity and feels the shift of grace while examining the tear-stained journals that once filled her days.

Gradually she rises, admiring the beauty finally revealed, though still awkward and stumbling she is thriving and growing stronger learning to observe the choices of a bitter resentful life, or one filled with grace, compassion and kindness.

Broken pieces fall away as she repeatedly witnesses the pity in the faces of those who learn of her bereavement; casually they step aside as if any loss can be contagious. Grief teaches us many things, like how to treat others with a kind heart, especially during the messy seasons.

Occasionally I still fall as I silently witness another celebration beyond what Ryan would ever see. These moments deliver a sadness that is drizzled onto me like honey, a sticky mess rendering me powerless for words. Quietly I will mourn this space, a little broken but still moving on, admiring the wounds that brought me strength and the fortitude necessary to keep going. 

As I write these words the sun warms me through the window and I reflect on the many memories in my heart. Tears well my eyes as I mourn the life I will never know, and while everything has not gone the way we would have planned, we carry the grace necessary to hold onto the gifts we were given, even when all that is left of those gifts are faded memories.