I was flipping through my newly completed sketchbook, and I found a brief diary-esque entry that had a sort of lovely sentiment, and I thought I’d share it. It was written in mid-February 2012, just after I’d gone to visit my great aunt in hospice care in Atlanta.
My aunt died on Monday. It seems a little weird to write that, since I’ve only said it out loud once, to my math teacher, in between tears. I didn’t go to the funeral, since it was midweek. But here’s the thing: I think it was better that way. I made the decision to not tell any of my friends about her, and I’ll tell you why. Knowing that the majority of my dad’s family, and quite a few of my mom’s relatives, had congregated in Dallas to mourn, I kind of wanted to keep all that separate from my life here. Not having my support system, I decided I’d rather keep the normalcy of my day-to-day life. I didn’t want the pity and kid gloves, didn’t want the sad to seep into my life here. And guess what: Tufts came through. My normal life stayed normal, my safe haven stayed safe. I kept talking to my parents, joking with my friends, and generally keeping my spirits higher, and my school happy.
This is my home away from home, and it pulled me out of my funk. Tufts wrapped me up in fluffy blankets and rocked me to sleep, and it was just what I needed.
Now, having said all that, I want everyone to know that I’m not endorsing this technique. It was undeniably difficult, and I ended up miserable pretty frequently. Probably as often as you’d expect when someone you love dies, regardless of your approach to grieving. There were days I felt utterly alone, and there were days when I felt wonderfully loved. Everyone has to find their coping technique: as trite as it sounds, there is no “right” way. Losing a loved one SUCKS. But it gets better.