The Dying Rose
Loss is the most horrific mind-boggling thing I’ve ever gone through. It's not more complex than simply not seeing that person anymore. It's having to realize that person is gone and no matter what you do that person isn't coming back. You blame yourself for not doing something when life itself is totally out of our control. We feel as if we lost all control of the world around us; we are a dying rose.
A rose which used to be filled with bold colored petals soft to the touch but rough when you see/ touch our stems, our stems that should remain in water so no one can see what we are feeling or coping it should remain hidden at least mine was. I was safe and secure. I felt my life had balance. But then he died. My grandpa passed away into the great beyond and that vase once full of balanced nurture and strength is shattered. My thorns become exposed and I can't repair what's done. I lose the control to cry, to yell, to push people away. I layed in my bed thinking about how life was so much better in that vase full of balance when my grandpa was still there because frankly when passes he took a piece of me with him up in that beautiful sky through the clouds and into the great beyond.
I stayed in my room, my petals wilting no longer soft to the touch but instead full of guilt and anger, a feeling I couldn't shake. I asked myself why this had to happen to me, a selfish thought but I’d never lost anyone until that day, how was I supposed to cope and process feelings I’d never felt so horrifying. I was comfortable in that vase. I was at peace. But how, how did the feeling of being safe and secure disappear in the matter of a phone call, a phone call I wish never would have happened. I was left shattered, taken out of the good state of my emotions, the rose everyone once knew was now dry, rough, and forever hurt. Even today I’m rebuilding that vase, but it will be nothing like the one I had in a life with him.
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