At the beginning of this year, I vowed to be more open and honest with my life, letting those closest to me to get to know a deeper side. I must say the first few weeks were spot on; I wrote more for myself and learned to communicate both the good and bad that occurred throughout the day. All was well, until about late January when I put up a wall, ultimately breaking my 2015 New Year Resolution.
Today, however, I break down the wall, opening up and sharing an entry I wrote just three weeks ago and finally feel okay enough to share.
Jan. 27, 2015
They say time heals all wounds, but they lied, and I know this for a fact. Speaking with a broken heart, I guess any traumatic loss is always tough, whether it is the first or last. But it never seems to end or fade out. If anything, and this may seem truly childish, but why can't one event make the next easier? That somehow, time and experience becomes this invisible shield; a protective force from life, a cushion or a safety net, softening the blow ... but it doesn't.
It's hurts no matter how you put it, like ripping off a band aid.
The best way to face it? To face it head on with complete honesty and truth, so totally unstructured, unplanned and uncensored.
Death sucks. I can't put it any other way. In my 20 years on this earth, I think it's safe to say that I have been to more funerals and had to bury and mourn more people than I have been to weddings to celebrate life. That just means that life in general is not fair, and I don't agree that it's here to make us stronger and learn to live for someone else. How do you ask someone to live for another human being when we lecture those who try to emulate and copy others?
Losing a loved one is never easy. In fact, this is the hardest thing I have ever encountered because there is nothing worse than being alone, a few thousand miles away from my mom. And only being able to text your heartbreak is no way of living or coping ... or whatever this emotional outburst may amount to labeling to. For every person you lose in a lifetime, the pain is never the same and it never gets any easier because the circumstances are never the same. Your relationship, your memories and those bonds are never the same, making this process no cookie-cutter fix.
The amount of anger, rage, pain and tears can hit you at the drop of a hat or wait and sneak up on you just days later. That's me: the second one. I have always been that girl.
Until tonight, I have always been the strong one. The one to pick up the pieces for others, but I guess there comes a time when you just have to stop being everyone else's rock and actually admit that you need to cry and have someone hold you for a change.
Cancer is a killer, physically, mentally and emotionally, and I am way beyond over losing those that mean so much to me.
But on the flip side, I force myself to be positive and cast light on a dark situation, thinking, "But who am I to dwell"... I had my time.
I watched her be the brightest light to shine in any given room. I watched her smile and her laugh become the most infectious among our friends.
But without a doubt, the part watching who I consider an aunt, have two beautiful children and rush every obstacle in her life with grace and endless drive. And while these two children will never get their mother back, I guess it is our job to do our best at embodying her gentle heart, positivity and her fight ... to pass that along. It is left up to us, because only we have the memories to make sure that they feel like they know her just as well as we did.
Looking back now, I realize that it is a big job to make sure that her fight and everything her life meant gets passed on. It is a lifetime commitment for all of us, but I think now, we are ready. I am ready to #LiveLikeAngie.
At 34, Angie passed away after a long hard fight with Stage 4 Metastasized breast cancer. She leaves behind a loving husband and two small kids. In my eyes, she is a fighter, a mother, a best friend, and an inspiration to all. She was a warrior! Since her passing, my mother and I have registered for the Susan G. Komen 5K Race for the Cure in our hometown, to make an impact in the fight against breast cancer. While we recently lost a very dear friend, it is not just my story I share, but those who struggle, fight and keep pushing forward, each and every day.
With that, I too wanted to show my support to the cause and help raise awareness. But it's not just me or my family in this battle. It is all of us, and your support can help us get one step closer to a world without breast cancer.
The Facts: 75 percent of the money raised through the Race stays in the community to fund local breast cancer education, screening and treatment programs. The remaining 25 percent supports groundbreaking breast cancer research.
Together, we are fueling the best science, boldest community and biggest impact in the fight against breast cancer. And we will not stop until this disease is gone forever. That is our promise. Please join me in this fight by joining our team or making a donation! - Susan G. Komen Foundation.
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