Skip to content

not to be melodramatic.

July 26, 2011

I am sure if my father read that last post he would say something like – OK ‘sarah’ stop it with the drama (emphasis on the dram-a).

Sometimes I treat this whole blog thing as a virtual diary.   It took me a while to even put down that dad was gone let alone process it in some sort of clear and eloquent way.  The truth is, I thought maybe by writing it down it would make it seem more real.  The last few weeks have been like an outer body experience.  I can actually see and relive the phone call that I got telling me what had happened as if I were the ghost of Christmas past hovering above the whole scene.

It’s hard to just suddenly lose someone who you are so very close with and then to go on with life.  Part of me feels like I will never go on and another part of me feels like I can’t believe I am getting out of bed and functioning.  But that’s what you have to do after loss – recognize it for what it is and then get yourself back up.

My dad would always say – it’s not the end of the world – and though it seems as if this is in some way or should be the end, the world is still moving.  Sometimes I want to scream and be like – stop!! my father isn’t here and this can’t be – but it just keeps going, people keep on living.

I went back to teaching my classes last week and cried along with my students recounting how yoga really has helped me.  The thing is that the whole yoga thing really works if you work it.  I feel a steadiness and am ok with the days when I am shaky.  I’m not sure I knew I’d ever be this strong without my practice.  With that practice comes a community – a kula – that is there to support and love, laugh and cry.

Last night in class I had students whom I teach both husbands and wives and even their children.  Their support and love means so much in times like these.  Many couldn’t believe I was back but it feels so good to serve and teach them as much as they serve me by just being there. My father was just like that – he was always helping people.  Friend of the friendless he was called and I know those traits were passed on to me.

It was a rough night last night.  I felt crappy – even all the students sort of felt crappy. About a quarter of the way through half the class was down.  I’ve never really had this happen before.  The theme was about how you cultivate and tend to what you have – so I took it as a cue to slow things down and take care of them.  By the end of class they were back and feeling much better.  Towards the end, one student looked at me and said something about not having been in class in a while and that coming back is hard.

I thought about it as they lay motionless in svasana – coming back is hard.  Whether it’s back to a class or back to life after a loss.  It takes a vulnerability that you have to be OK with.  As I thought about it more I realized – coming back is hard, but not coming back is harder.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Steve permalink
    July 26, 2011 3:22 pm

    Well written, very eloquent.

    Words feel insufficient sometimes when expressing important life-changing feelings, but what else do we have? As I’ve mentioned to you, I relate to the things you expressed here and in your previous post. Blogging must be a good good outlet. You need one; one you can rely on, but don’t expect or “need” a response. I went to a psychologist for a while after my losses to make sure I had that outlet. It really helped; and as I was getting back to “my old self,” or more accurately as I was “re-building a wiser self”, Jamie and the girls came into my life and everything came together for me.

  2. ATG permalink
    July 27, 2011 12:05 am

    the worst part about losing anyone is that I’d rather try to forget than remember… hurts too much to remember…but then I hate that I want to forget… then I get all down thinking that I’m an asshole for not being more grateful that I got even mere moments with the person, because I start thinking of all the people that didn’t even get that much time with someone they loved… fucking sucks either way. fucking sucks.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: