Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened - Dr Seuss

Death is an uncomfortable subject. Theoretically you know that death is part of life and it happens. But in practice we live our lives dancing around the subject, grieving in silence, trying to forget maybe what hurt so much or happily unaware that it could have an effect on us personally.

Everything changed for me when someone that I cared for died a year ago. My heart was touched. There is a loss, a tiny place hurting in my heart that carries all my friends, loves and family. How do you heal that place in your heart? I am still fumbling but I think you can do that by sharing, by crying, by remembering first sadly but later fondly and with joy all the good times that you shared. The quote from Dr Seuss says it all. Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

But how can you cry with sadness or remember with joy when your heart is eaten up in anger, in pain because the person who is now gone was so ill mentally that in the last years of her life she rejected people who loved her, hurt loved ones, could not acknowledge the love and friendship that she was given and finally chose to step out of this world without saying goodbye, without giving or receiving a chance to ease or resolve long-present pain? How do you forgive yourself and her? How can you find peace?

People say these inane things such as "you shouldn't speak ill of the dead", "water under the bridge" or "now she isn't here anymore the only thing you can do is to forgive her". As if forgiveness is a switch that you can just turn on. I think that forgiving real pain is hard and sometimes needs a lot of time.

Another subject that is taboo is mental illness. That probably makes people more uncomfortable than death even. My aunt had dissociative disorder, or multiple personalities. I have had disbelieving reactions from some people. I guess part of that is just unfamiliarity with the capacities of the brain and part of that is probably fear. Fear of the unknown and lack of understanding. For me it was never hard to accept because I saw them, spoke to them, and hugged them. One was present at my birth, I played games with the ebullient teenagers, and I gave a toy dragon to the little children who were so shy and so happy with it. That memory makes me smile and cry at the same time. There, I am happy with that memory and happy that you were part of my life, in spite of the pain.

I wish things had been different, for you and for me. What I wish doesn't matter since we are always affected by others and you made your own choices. But today I will burn a candle next to the cuddly dragon with the shiny wings that you gave me so long ago.  

In remembrance. And I will smile.