Why do people keep dying? I mean, I get it, it’s life, or a part of it anyway but Jesus, it’s everywhere.
People who feel they have to escape whatever demons they’re being chased by, and they take their own lives.
People dying suddenly and tragically.
People giving up a long fight with whatever disease they’ve been battling.
It. Is. everywhere.
And yes, since Andre died I am way more sensitive to it. I can’t help but to think about those left behind and the tears, so many tears. And the raw noses, the heartbreak, the pain. It’s all consuming and seems endless, and some days it lasts from sunrise to sunset.
And some days, it’s not so bad. Some days it’s paralyzing.
A few days ago, I requested Facebook to memorialize Andre’s account. I just assumed it was a part of the process. And although his toothbrush still sits in the holder in the bathroom and his glasses on the bedside table, this was something I needed to do to see if I could. And I did. And I got a message from Facebook telling me that they received my request. Great. I took one step. And it was okay until it wasn’t. Today, I got a message that they processed my request and they memorialized his page, and then I was hit by overwhelming panic. I debated if it would be weird to contact them back and tell them that I misunderstood and that I really didn’t want that to be done, and what’s worse is that when I clicked on his page, the heartbreak was suddenly so real and raw once again. It was like actively mourning his loss all over again.
It was in full color “Remembering Andre Bermudez”. This is fucking real. And I have made great strides in my handling my grief and now I feel as though I have been ripped off the sand by a tidal wave and am tumbling in the undertow unable to catch my breath.
And yet, if I were to think about what Andre would want me to do, this was it. If I were able to ask him how to handle these things I am 100 percent positive he would say this:
He would tell me to smile and laugh. He would tell me to enjoy my girls every second. He would tell me that, yes someday, I will have the ability to love and be loved again. He would tell me it’s okay to open myself up to people and that the vulnerability that I feel simply accepting the love people have to offer me is okay.
He would remind me that although it’s inevitable, that not everyone has to die like he did.
He would remind me not to live in fear.
He would tell me to live. He would insist upon it.
And so I am here to relay that same thing you.
Eat delicious food. Take time out for yourself. Play with your children. Reach out to your family members. Make a call instead of texting so you can hear a voice. Blast music and have a midday dance party. Enjoy a glass of wine. Buy something frivolous. Fall in love over and over again. Allow yourself to feel loved. Feel joy in almost everything you do.
And I have promised him that I will.