“The real question is not whether life exists after death. The real question is whether you are alive before death.” – Osho

It’s been over a month since my friend passed away. Even writing that feels surreal, like something I heard in passing, or perhaps a bad dream. After my Dad passed in 2020, I recognized the brutal truth of life after, the impossibility and unfairness of it all. The future of a loved one taken away. Their presence stolen from me, without my permission.

I am reminded that after someone I love leaves, the earth doesn’t stop spinning though my world feels like it might.

While the departed get to rest in peace, I still have to eat and sleep, wake up, and take care of all the things that come with adulting. A new normal settles in while everyone seems utterly unaware that my reality has been altered forever.

The only thing that seems to allow a graceful transition is to slow down, put my hand on my heart, and whisper, “I love you, and I’m listening.” When I pause like this, it allows the sadness lurking under my surface to bubble up and eventually, float away. I don’t know all their hiding places, but I imagine these pockets of grief trapped behind my rib cage or under my spleen, thought I’m not entirely sure where the latter is.

Death is part of life, as I’ve written about before. And I’m more convinced than ever, that death is here to teach us how to live. The contrast of after revealing glimmers of light through the darkness.

The best way I know to honor those I have lost is to take advantage of the very thing causing my mourning – my alive-ness. It’s why I keep asking myself Mary Oliver’s poignant question: “What will I do with this one wild and precious life?” Every day I wake up, I have the privilege of answering.

[Photo: Honoring our friend at his favorite surf break.]