Once upon a time there was a fairytale based in truth, from lessons learned, shared with the world in sugarcoated bliss.
Once upon a time the reality of life was too harsh for minds and hearts to hear, so a story was woven like a web, around to painful an event.
Once upon a time the story spread like a childhood game of telephone, each person that repeated it making it shine a little brighter than before.
Once upon a time the lesson meant to be learned in this tale of woe was long forgotten until only those who’d lived it remembered the tale as it was.
Once upon a time the only hearts filled with pain were those that had lived the tragedies glossed over in the fairytales read to the children at night.
For reality is lived by us all, knowingly or not, and some burdens are to difficult to bear without a little sparkle woven in, and if the shimmer came from tears shed late into the night…
Who should know when mornings light fell, upon all who are seemingly happy as can be? With bright smiles and at times dark hearts, we all live in our fairytales to numb the bitter bite of pain.
Death became me and I became death in a time gone by. I no longer felt, it was as if I was floating while still experiencing immeasurable pain. Pain that would be the end of me as I knew myself.
I lost myself for a time, years went by. I didn’t know who I was. I only felt the absence. Death was so much more than a body in the ground for me. It was loss and grief yes. But it was also the end of childhood and life as I knew it.
It was loneliness in a room full of people. Abandonment from those closest and fear of commitment as I aged. It was finding a way to grow on my own and making mistakes I wouldn’t have dreamt of making in another time.
It was reaching my breaking point, filled with shame and doubts. No longer lovable or worthy because death had stolen from me what I could not seem to gain back in life. It was the knife under my pillow.
Yes, once in a time gone by, death became me and I became death…until the pain burned through me and I learned to stand again. Until I learned the shame and doubts were not my own. Until I learned that death was not a hated enemy or a treasured friend.
Death simply is. In the way that my living is now. Both have a time and place in our lives. We should not hurry it along. But learn to accept that it will one day come for us all. In the days before we can only stand when we are knocked down and continue loving despite the risks.