The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

There’s been some really good bits, but there’s definitely been a cavalcade of bad.

They say bad news comes in 3’s, well September proved it can come in much bigger numbers than that.

Which leads to the point of this post … and it’s bleak. Especially for a Tuesday. But it’s also real.

You see, the older you get, the more you welcome death into your life.

I’m not talking about celebrities, I mean friends, family members or friends of the family.

Of course, this can happen at any age – after all, I lost my Dad when I was still in my twenties and the posts I wrote following Mum’s death capture the emotional rollercoaster it can trigger in all of us – but growing old does tend to increase the level of loss you feel when learning of someone passing.

I know that sounds counter intuitive given you experience it more, but it’s true. Mainly because you never really get used to it happening.

Sure, the pain and sadness varies depending on who it is and the relationship you had with them, but it always affects you.

Even more so when the people are younger than you.

Over the last couple of months – literally 8 weeks – I’ve learned the sad news that 6 people I knew, had died.

SIX.

Three were ex-colleagues, one was a generous soul who I’d met a number of years ago and 2 were dear friends.

While I got on well with all of them, we weren’t living in each-others pockets beyond the odd note, the odd Instagram comment and the annual ‘birthday’ best wishes.

It wasn’t always like that, but life has a way of impacting availability even if you really try for it not to … which may explains why – bar Billy – I discovered their sad news via social media.

I wish I could say my first reaction was shock, but it wasn’t … it was confusion.

In each case I would read the ‘update’ on social media and then look at attached photo and not understand how these two things were connected.

One representing the worst of life. The other, showing them in the most vibrant expression of it.

And then, when I finally registered the reality of the situation – I found myself just going down a rabbit hole of their life.

Trying to understand what had happened.
Trying to know more about the life they had lived.
Trying to learn about the relationships that mattered most to them.
Trying to make sense of the last days, weeks and months of their life.
Trying to find the last time we had spent a good amount of time together.

Of course none of this changes the tragedy of it all, but in a weird way it helped me feel connected to them while also honouring them.

And I have felt a real need to honour them because they were all amazing people in a whole host of amazing ways.

Much better than I will ever be.

Now I appreciate this may all sound like I’ve gone mad but this approach has really helped me come to terms with their loss and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the dealings with death – what works for you, is all that matters.

But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t hurt.

Hasn’t left scars.

If truth be told, the impact of their loss – underpinned by the shitshow that is my eye and another friend dealing with the rapid decline of a parent who has been in my life my whole life – has had a pretty devastating effect on me.

It’s made me question a lot of things …

Decisions I’ve made.
Decisions I’ve yet to make.
The things I put my energy into.
The things I am expected to put my energy into.
All the sliding doors moments that I have walked past rather than walked through.

And while that all sounds bleak, the reality is it has served as an important reminder that so much of how we live is focused on what we should do rather than what we want to do.

That does not mean it justifies any act of selfishness … but it does validate embracing the opportunities, possibilities and people who bring you the greatest happiness, pleasure or excitement.

I’ve not always been the best at this.

I’ve allowed life to get in the way of what – or who – energises my life far too often.

I’ve seen people, places and opportunities pass me by that – had I stopped worrying about what I am expected to do – could have had a profound effect on many aspects of who I am and how I live.

That doesn’t mean I am disappointed with what I have and what I have done – far from it – I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be so bloody blessed in so many ways. But it also doesn’t blanket the fact I’ve let moments, people and possibilities slip through my fingers that I felt at the time were potentially hugely important to me or good for me, because I allowed things I shouldn’t have regarded as more important at the time, be more important.

Maybe out of duty.
Maybe out of routine.
Maybe out of fear for realising what I’d settled for versus what I could have done or had.

A long time ago, a friend of mine told me their approach to life was “live a little bit more stupidly”.

I still really like that.

A little bit more stupid might be the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard.

Which leads to the point of this post …

Life’s short.

Far too short to spend it with pricks, processes and problems that take more from us than add to us … and yet most of us find ourselves doing exactly that in some way. Every single day.

Of course I appreciate it is rarely out of choice, but it happens because life is always happening … but what the results in is us often failing to appreciate what’s passing us by.

Or worse, what’s getting ready to say goodbye.

I think about ‘lasts’ quite a lot.

Last meal.
Last hug.
Last laugh.
Last conversation.
A last and final goodbye.

And while we rarely know when the end is going to come, the one thing we can do to counter it is to be present in the things that make us happy and the lives of those who matter most.

Not just when death is approaching, but when opportunity is screaming.

Which is why I hope this post might inspire someone to make the time to make that call.

To a loved one.
A friend.
A family member.
A colleague.
A significant other.
A significant other, you’ve never shared that with.
A person you’ve let a pointless disagreement become a stranger.

Because if losing one of those people hurts, I can assure you knowing you let them go before they even left is even worse.

Life isn’t perfect.

It can be messy and complicated.

Which is why the connections that matter should be all that matters.

However unlikely, inconvenient or challenging they may be to sustain.

Last thing.

I get this sounds like I’m sad. Well I am. But here’s the thing – so I should be. If I wasn’t, that would be far scarier … so know that I write this because I am good, just frustrated I’ve needed the worst of times to remind me to seize the best of life.

So to September, I say goodbye.

Apart from a couple of special things that happened, you were an asshole, which is why I hereby lay you to rest.