A Long December - December 22, 2011
The call that never came, the goodbye that never happened, and why some family betrayals cut deeper than death itself.
There’s an old Counting Crows song called A Long December, a song about looking back on a rough year that you can only understand once you get through it.
I hadn’t thought about that song in a long time.
I was already planning to write about grief this week; the sheer amount of loss this year has made it pretty hard to ignore.
But grief has a way of getting to you when you least expect it.
Grief is different for everyone, but there’s always that same rude awakening when your world stops and the actual world doesn’t.
Businesses stay open, people go about their day, and you realize you’re stuck in one of the worst seasons of your life - alone.
It creates this simmering, irrational anger that isn’t even about other people at all, but the fact that something devastating just occurred, and the world doesn't even seem to care.
And you think to yourself, “How can this be? Does nobody else feel this? Don’t they know what just happened?”
You know that they don't actually know, but it feels like they should.
I remember that feeling well.
