The door opens to a brand new world.
It’s different, it’s unfamiliar, it’s darker, it’s unreal.
She’s not in this world, so sometimes it doesn’t feel real.
It’s like a dramatic before and after.
The world with her in it, and now the world without her.
When I first entered this new world I denied it.
I refused to believe it existed.
I wanted the old world back.
I suffered so hard and I cried.
It felt so dark, harsh, stark.
It wasn’t shiny and new with possibility, but rather it was heavy with responsibility and awareness of suffering.
I would go to bed at night and wake up in the morning and think I was back in the old world.
And when I realized I was in the new world I was devastated and wanted to go back in time.
I wanted my old world back.
But time has created more space and separation.
And I no longer wake up dreading being in the new world.
I’ve learned to accept it now.
Accepted the gifts that it’s brought me.
I’ve acclimatized.
Almost like when you move to a new country or city, you slowly adapt and learn to enjoy the new world and discoveries that come with it.
Like lessons on suffering, compassion, depth, and growth.
Like the inevitability of change that we all must come to accept.
I’ve also brought her with me to this new world.
And while she can’t see me with her eyes, the changes in me, or the people who she loved (and loved her), I have her closer to me than ever before.
Because we have merged.
She is one with my soul and a part of my spirit.
She is in the air, the earth and the elements.
Her laughter sings in the wind and she dances lightly along beside me.
She is within me, and outside of me and all around me. All at once.
Because a loss that cuts your world in two, makes you believe in other universes, dimensions, angels, and spirits.
And my soul is forever connected to the way she made me feel. Those feelings bubble up inside me. And I can call on them whenever I want. Whenever I need comfort or her truth. They are imprinted on me.
And it’s hard to believe that my eyes can no longer see her, that my ears can no longer hear her, that my nose can no longer smell her, and that my body can no longer touch her or feel her hand gracing mine.
If you’ve been through the depths of grief you will understand the reality of the two worlds.
Will my worlds in the future continue to divide up like pie slices when I lose more of those I love?
But I have not lost her to the old world.
My mom, my blessed mom.
You are still here.
And you have helped me rise and conquer this strange new world.
~ Meghan