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To Be Reminded of Good

This weekend was Valentine’s day. A day typically reserved for romance, dinner reservations and little velvet boxes. A holiday for couples. My experience on the 14th, has proved it’s simply a day to share love. On a day I would normally have Joe, exchanging cards (his were always better) and ordering in, my family and friends made sure Vienna and I didn’t forget for a minute how loved we are. And it made me think, reflect.


Originally, I planned for today’s post to continue talking about the landmine that is navigating early grief. But in the spirit of this past weekend, instead, I wanted to share what I’ve learned in these two months about the true, genuine kindness we humans possess. In a world where everyone deals with their own struggle, pain and of course the crowd favorite, Covid, it has humbled me to see the amount of good in people’s hearts. In the immediate days since Joe’s passing, the number of people who called, texted, sent flowers or goodies, donated, and reached out in any capacity was shocking. I mean, I knew how loved Joe is and the impression he’s made on people but even still, it blew me away. And it continues, 10 weeks later, the love and support. This love, support, the desire to help, it’s overwhelming in the most heartwarming, happy tears, forever thankful kind of way.


Seeing the good has given me the mind shift I so often need these days. It seems that just in my lowest moment, after what felt like an impossible day, a text comes through or a care package arrives and I am reminded of the beauty in the human heart. A friend from my childhood, an old-coworker of Joe’s, an acquaintance, a memory from the past. People I don’t typically see or talk to everyday have poured out support and heartfelt words in the most genuine of ways. It reminds me that there is good in this world.


I had two conversations with two friends in the last month or so. Each ultimately saying they don’t think this experience will make me bitter. They have faith I’ll still have my “good.” My mind wandered with thoughts after each time and still, this sentiment lingers, peeking through in moments of doubt. First of all, how lucky am I to have friends who see my good through my anger, numbness, heartbreak, baggy sweats and tired eyes. Second, it’s a lot to live up to. In so many moments, I feel like I am a different person, fundamentally changed, forever jaded. In so many moments, I can’t imagine finding my good again. And then three blue hearts pop up on my phone or an unexpected card arrives in the mail. And I am reminded.


I struggle with the idea of being changed, of not being who I was before. But despite my grappling thoughts, ultimately I know, I am changed. Of course, I am changed from this experience and I won’t be the same. And that’s OK (well, actually, it really friggen sucks but I’m going for positive here people) Because truly, I know my “good” won’t stop and it certainly isn’t gone. I will still find the good and life and be it whenever I can. And how lucky am I, that in the moments I forget, I have so many beautiful humans to remind me.





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