Gesuschic

You go through certain levels in life, not necessarily based on maturity or age, just with each passing day, things change, people change.
You move on.
You keep going.
I’ve had lifetimes pass through my soul.
The loss I’ve had with friends, family…it changed me forever. The way I see everything is completely different. But nothing, NOTHING prepared me for last year at this time. The phone call I received.
When my parents died, I thought I would never take another breath again.
My dad had brain Cancer.
He beat it, was in remission for exactly one year and a half. Then it decided to come back in a whirlwind and my dad was gone.
My mom was a bit more difficult.
She had Alzheimer’s.
In a morbid way, I had lost my parents before I lost them.
Don’t get me wrong, I would never say anyone is ready for their parents to die. But with the fucked up diseases my mom and dad had, it was as if I was standing on the edge of a high dive getting ready to jump. I knew what was coming. I had no other choice but to put my big girl panties on, and face it.
But damn…that phone call last year. I will NEVER be the same again.
Grief took me to an all new level of heartbreak. I still can’t even say the words “he died…”
Rich Fout was so many things to so many people.
I can’t even put into words what that beautiful soul of a man meant to me.
A spiritual leader, a spiritual father, a teacher, a hero, our Moses…I could be here all night.
I loved Rich with every complete fiber of my entire existence.
At 43 years old my life is just absolute chaos. Even though the light at the end of this very dark tunnel is beginning to get bigger, my grief continues to swallow me whole. I’m just slipping faster and faster with nothing to grab a hold of, a continuous fall.
I changed when I lost my family. My parents, my brothers, my sister…but when The Almighty decided to take the Godfather, I didn’t just change from one level to the next.
I became a completely different human being.
Honestly, I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.
Everything seems cloudy, dreary, as though I’m walking in a fog never to be clear.
To me, his death was so unexpected. I prayed for healing, I was SURE of it too! Never in a million years did I think we all were gonna lose him.
Not yet.
It sounds so selfish, but I wasn’t ready.
Life doesn’t run on what you may or may not be ready for though, and apparently neither does the good Lord.
I’ve asked myself a thousand times; “how do I get over this?” and with one year, I still don’t even know.
I’m still angry.
I’m still lost.
I still can’t breathe
and I still feel so fucking alone.
I miss him.
However, in all that has happened with this awful, miserable year. I have figured out one answer with my mountains upon mountains of questions.
How do you deal with a loss?
I don’t know.
How long will sadness run rampant?
I don’t know.
How do you get over it?
I don’t know.
Will I always be angry?
I don’t know.
In getting past that level of heartbreak and grief, I have NO answer. With those? I’m at a stand still, locked in a universe of unimaginable pain from so much loss.
The only question, I have found an answer for,
is what do you do when you lose the one person, that meant the absolute world to you? That I know all to well.
You weep…you weep.