Anyone who's lost someone close to them knows how difficult and heartwrenching it is to turn that calendar over to a new year. Another year they won't see or experience. For those of us still mourning, it's another year of grief and loneliness. I'm getting pretty fucking sick of feeling this way, yet I don't want to "get over it." I will never get over it. I have become a fantastic actress (or at least a clown). Most days, no one would detect the sadness and pain I feel. That's not to say I fake being happy--I am lucky to have many genuine moments of happiness, fun and laughter in my life. But the underlying sadness is always there. And I cover it up like a fucking boss. Usually.
December was a wretched month in many ways. A friend and neighbor of mine and Jason's died on New Year's Eve. Another young life lost. Cathy was a bright light around our neighborhood--always smiling, joyful, spreading laughter and warmth. Everyone within 10 blocks knew her face and her smile. She had a wicked sense of humor. I admire her joyful spirit even more knowing her life wasn't all rainbows and I strive to live life as positively as she did. She helped Jason with his business, she and her husband had us over for epic summer nights in their backyard and she tried to be there for me as I struggled to cope.
I will always be sad that we had not talked much since Jason's death. And these terrible things that happen only make me miss Jason more, as I long so badly to talk to him. He would have been so saddened by Cathy's death and would have joined me in lending support to her husband and family.
When you lose someone close to you, you naturally miss their physical presence--their smile, their voice, their laugh, their arms around you. But what I miss even more with Amir and Jason is their insights and ideas and thoughts about everything. I miss talking to them so much I feel I can't stand it sometimes. I am not myself because I cannot share things with them. I often feel like half a person without them in my life.
So, I move into a new year with a heavy weight on my shoulders, but one that lightens with support and love from my friends and family. I remain sad but optimistic. Grieving but positive. I strive to find happiness and purpose, even when both seem unlikely. I truly appreciate what I have and what I'm capable of, even when I dread the thought of a future without Amir and Jason in it. No matter what, I will do whatever I can to make 2017 a happy and productive year.