No surrender

I’ve been writing a lot of sad things lately. Posts about lost traditions and loneliness. Some days I find myself so wrapped up in what I have lost, I don’t give myself any time to think about what is ahead of me. And let’s be honest, I’m the only one driving the bus now. I should probably consider what direction I’m headed, otherwise, I’ll just be going in circles. I heard a quote once in one of my favorite movies, Elizabethtown: “Sadness is easier because it’s surrender.” That may not make sense for you, but it does for me.

My personality doesn’t lend itself well to sadness. Being depressed actually depresses me more. It’s been almost three months since I last heard my Joe’s voice, but if he could send me a message he would tell me to stop. Stop worrying about why he’s gone. Stop wallowing in his absence. Stop fretting about our lost future and start living this new life in front of me. On his 56th birthday last year Joe posted on Facebook about how grateful he was to have another birthday to celebrate. And he said in that post “get out and enjoy this life, you never know when your numbers up!” He was right. There was no way for us to know his number would be called so soon, and no way to know when mine will be called.

I had to go downtown this morning for our annual company Summit. It’s about a 15-minute drive from my house to the hotel. On my way it seems like Joe wanted me to listen to nothing but the Beatles. This was this morning’s playlist:

Let It Be

Ob-la-di Ob-la-da

Here Comes The Sun

https://youtu.be/QfB09CeGpAU?si=LqXDeY_rDAZy_Ggy

Message received. I need to let it be, understand that life goes on, and celebrate when the sun is shining. These songs put me in a positive place before I had to walk in and see so many co-workers I hadn’t seen since Joe’s death. So many more hugs to be received and thoughts and prayers to be offered. But I survived, in big part because of the music that set the tone to my day. Thanks for that babe.

And surprisingly enough, now the sun is shining through the window as I sit in my office at home writing this. Yes, I’m still sad that the most amazing man I ever had the privilege of loving is gone. Yes, I’m broken hearted that I have lost three of the most important people in my life in a very short period of time. Yes, I will struggle through all of this, fall short of my own expectations, and backslide more often than I care to think about.

But today, today I will not surrender.