The Weight is a Gift

Just as I felt like I was making progress in my grieving, another wave of anger and sadness came over me as the weekend began. The really difficult part was how this was even harder and unrelenting than I've felt before.

As I looked at what could have been a long weekend sitting at home pouting, I decided to get out of the house and make a lot of plans.

I knew my mind could go into destructive and dark places, so I wanted to find the opposite by various means. I wasn't in denial or running away, and I know life passes you by when you stew.

Keeping that in mind, I made phone calls to friends, hung out with some of them, biked all nine miles of the White Rock Lake trail for the first time, saw The Raid: Redemption in a theater, and booked a flight to Chicago for a mini-weekend vacation in two weeks. This was certainly more than I usually do with my time on the weekends, but this wave was a catalyst.

I also kept in mind a meme that floated around Facebook a few weeks ago. Featuring a picture of Will Smith, the words were, "If you're absent during my struggle, don't expect to be present during my success." The people I contacted and vented to this weekend will all know about when I come from under this emotional boulder. For the few that bolted when the shit hit the fan last year, they will have to watch from a long distance.

"Maybe this weight was a gift," goes a Nada Surf lyric. I concur. Shitty things happen in life. I get that. But it's important how we respond to them; they direct us to our future.