makin' a party of it

Yesterday was quite difficult. Mom and Dad went to Anderson University to move Amanda into her dorm room, and I stayed back at the house watching movies, trying to keep my mind off everything that has happened. When night fell, I went out onto the patio and gazed at the stars, and memories of my life with Karen flashed before my eyes in rapid succession. Feeding turtles at Mount Echo. Chasing geese at Mount Aries. Exploring the conservatory at Eden Park. Exploring the woods. Swimming in the pool in our backyard. Long drives through the hills of northern Kentucky. Watching movies in her basement. Cuddling on the couch and sweet-talking. Playing Halo (and how she would get so excited when she got a single kill on me). These memories are so simple, and yet they are so precious. These memories flooded over me, and I literally broke down and wept. The tears cascaded down my face like a waterfall, and in broken sobs I prayed that God would take the pain away. At that moment, the tears stopped, my heart slowed down, and I found myself composed. There is still a hole in my heart, a pain that strikes every time I see Karen’s beautiful face. I dreamt of her all last night, dreamt that we were still together, that I could call her whenever I pleased. I didn’t get to talk to her last night. It took me a while to fall asleep. 

My friend told me, “You need to go out and do something. Get your mind off things.” 

I said, “I really don’t feel like doing anything.” 

“I know, but bathing in the sadness isn’t going to make things better.” 

“I want to feel the sadness. I want to know it’s real.” 

“When I’m sad, I hate feeling the sadness, because it makes me feel weak.” 

“When I embrace suffering, it makes me feel stronger.” I added, jokingly, as a side-note, “If I just ignore the pain, then I’m living a life of denial. But I like to speed up the grieving process. If I can skip right to depression, then I’m doing a pretty good job.” 

But I’m going to take my friend’s advice. 

I’m going down to Cincinnati today. 

Sarah and I are going to hang out. 

She’s in the same situation as I am. 

“We can both be sad together,” she said. 

“We’ll make a party of it,” I replied.