Facts are important but so is context. What has happened – happened. There’s nothing that can be added or subtracted. It isn’t about fault, blame, destiny, karma, providence, or anything else. When something like this is over – it is over.
But context adds all kinds of insight on top of facts. Fact without context is like birthday cake without icing. It’s like dropping a rock in a lake but not seeing any ripples. It’s sort of okay and kind of normal but it isn’t completely whole.
The added context on top of the event is that my life is completely different now after losing Regina. Life will go on for awhile, things will be accomplished, there will be good times and not such good times, friendships will come and go, health will ebb and flow, and so on. But – bottom line – the context surrounding everything about me is much different now than before.
Piddling arguments and nuanced solutions don’t matter as much to me anymore. The highs will never be as high and the lows will certainly never be as low. Finding love has now been balanced with losing love. Giddy arm-waving, hand-clapping, foot-stomping, punching-the-air spirituality is long past. God is now more a trusted, listening, feeling, walking companion and less an I’ll-give-it-all-to-you-if-you-pray-enough benefactor. Relational conflict (even in jest) isn’t funny to me anymore and, in fact, brings tears to my eyes. Friends lists and followers is less important than a handful of trusted, loyal friends. Sick and hurting people seem more important to me than ever before. Quietness, I realize, is meant to be more than a perk – it’s actually something that brings wellness. Respect and tolerance, I now know, is worth it’s weight in gold – snarkiness and cynicism isn’t worth a hoot.
And I also realize that my time here is limited so it’s a good idea to not get too comfortable with things.
I loved Regina for who she was and I now love Regina’s influence and legacy. If you think I carry on too much about her, then you are not respecting my context. She was and is as much apart of me as my own body. That will never change.
In these two years, the new normal for me has become the unnormal for many others. I’m not doing it to be different. It’s simply where I am between the two bookends of eternity.