Battling Grief

Grief is not something that is unknown to me. I’ve been acquainted with it before. I know exactly what it’s all about, but even though it’s been familiar to me for so long it hits different every time.

Apparently there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The reason it hits different every time is because not everyone is susceptible to experiencing all of the stages. The truth is you may experience all in consecutive parts or you may experience some in varying parts. It can manifest itself in the most atrocious, terrifying ways. It can easily take over and watch its victim spiral as fast as a burning ship, with a nonchalance so discreet...if you let it.

Candidly, this week I’ve faced my biggest fear, and saying what I’m about to say isn’t easy to say out loud. It doesn’t feel right. It feels like a nightmare I’ve woken up from before, but this time it’s real. I’ve entered a dimension I cannot escape from.

This week I lost half of me, my best friend, my confidante, my literal everything... my dad.

In my previous piece, I’ve talked about dad’s parting gift of the two most prized possessions I hold dear to my heart, my two silver rings. At this moment in time, these possessions are no longer gifts dubbing as edgy accessories. They’re an inheritance.

Here’s the thing about grief; as a concept, it’s a fresh cut, kind of like the one I had when I fell off my bike as a kid. Unlike the real thing though, I can’t seem to suppress the gushing.

Upon finding the news, disbelief took over my ability to speak, followed by denial which took my ability at showing any sense of emotions. Every single remark directed my way appeared as an echo, I squinted as if that help me understand better.

The following day, my family and I took turns crying and comforting each other, but we were all simultaneously spewing all kinds of hurtful words...anger. The pressure, the lack of sleep, lack of any sort of sense in all of this turned us into impatient, belligerent beings.

In the heap of all of the emotions, none of us got any sleep. The minutes on the digital clock changed as quickly as seconds. There was dusk and dawn, then rain, then darkness again. The house was mute occasionally interrupted by a thousand hail mary’s. Then when it all calmed down, there was wailing and sniffling. I could feel my heart crumbling into pieces.

Some people find solace in prayer, I find solace in darkness and lyrics. One song in particular spoke to me so residually that it woke me up from my zombie-like state. It was at the peak of depression where I heard Our Last Night’s “Sunrise,” which resuscitated me back to life. It is an emotionally igniting song with a powerful message... specifically here:

“And the sounds of the cries when a family's loved one dies

It echoes through a vacant room where a young soul still resides”

It reassured me in my depressed state that no matter how badly I’d like to take my dad’s place, exchange my soul in lieu of his, I can’t because there is still so much to be done, so much to accomplish to make his soul beam with joy and pride, showering us with light and heat in order to survive and complete our destined missions.

This hopeful line served as a secondary resuscitation:

“When the night is cold and you feel like no one knows

What it's like to be the only one buried in this hole

You can make it to the sunrise (whoa)

You can make it to the sunrise (whoa)

Searching for a way to escape the madness

A dire need for change as we fight for better days”

Because no matter how terrible or awful one feels during each respective stage of grief, it is a fight for a better, brighter tomorrow.

And lastly this gem:

“From time to time, there arise among human beings, people,

Who seem to exude love, as naturally as the sun, gives out heat”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my dad, Krzysztof. He exuded so much love for any helpless human beings, for my mom, then for his daughters. It gives me peace knowing he is remembered fondly among his closest friends, my childhood friends who reached out to me, my current friends, and of course myself.

Life is short. Death is evident and unpredictable. I was prepared for anyone else to go, but him. Hug your loved ones extra tight tonight and every night.