You and I Were Like Diamonds in the Sky
Wednesdays, meh.
This should not be a surprise for anyone who reads this newsletter regularly, but Wednesdays appear to be perpetually difficult for me now (due in large part to the fact that Kellie died on a Wednesday afternoon).
I woke up feeling disoriented and unhappy and full of dread, and that persisted for an hour or two. I reached out to three or four people to let them know that Matt was NOT having a good day, and it seriously took an hour or so before someone reminded me that yeah, duh, there’s a reason for that.
It’s fascinating to me that my body knew I had something to fear today even though my conscious mind didn’t remember for quite a while. Yes, I know I wrote about being fifteen weeks in last night, but it just wasn’t in my head this morning.
We took this picture almost exactly six weeks before Kellie died. Yes, everyone’s looking in an entirely different direction, yes, all four of us needed a shower, and yes, the composition is a mess. But it’s still an image that I treasure more than I can adequately articulate. We were together, we loved each other, and that was enough.
One of my friends (who is a genius) told me last night that I am going to be able to manage the hard days better than I think because I have a lot of tools in my toolbox and a lot of friends in my friendbox. I think that the concept of a friendbox is absolutely brilliant, and although she assures me she made the word up thirty seconds before she said it to me, I absolutely love the term. Expect me to tell plenty of you that you’re now in my friendbox moving forward, because you certainly are.
The act of reaching out to several folks from my friendbox, just that, helped me feel so much better within just a few minutes. It’s funny: When I’m really down in the dumps and unbelievably sad, my brain tells me that there’s no point in talking to anyone else, since I have nothing to say to them besides “I’m sad now”. My brain is wrong, obviously. Or at least, it doesn’t matter that much if I have something to say to someone from my friendbox. What matters is what they have to say to ME, and them being kind and compassionate and loving and supportive very quickly reassures me that I’m not all alone in the world. I need people, whether they need me or not (and it appears that many people appear to appreciate having me in their lives too). Important lessons that I need to try my hardest to actually retain in this brain of mine.
It was a relatively busy day, which helped me keep my mind off the anniversary this afternoon. Tomorrow will also be relatively busy, and then my week will be largely over with.
That’s where I’m at this fine evening: contemplating the contents of my friendbox. I deeply love every single one of you.
XOXO,
Matt