There are moments in life when time seems to standstill. Moments so raw that you remember every little detail. One year ago today time stood still for me. I remember what I was wearing. I remember looking at my phone and instantly knowing something was wrong. An incoming call from a friend who always texts. I didn't want to answer it. I stared at the number and I just knew it was bad. I answered the phone. My friend Greg was calling me to tell me one of our best friends, Artemis, was gone. I remember my legs just instantly gave out and before I knew it I was on the ground. I grabbed at my throat with one hand as I held my cell to my ear with the other trying to get out words that made sense. It was hard to breathe. What I didn't know then was that that moment would birth an entire year that has felt hard to breathe.
Life is gnarly. I've had my share of heartbreaks & losses. Lost my dad when I was 19, followed by my Grandpa years later. So I was no stranger to death. But, a few months before my friend Artemis passed away, my sweet cousin Evan committed suicide, followed by someone close to me attempting suicide. So maybe it was the perfect storm of loss close together that knocked me down so hard on my ass that getting back up proved to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. I just couldn't get the fuck back up. I tried desperately. But the sadness consumed me. I may have physically gotten up, but emotionally I was stuck in that moment. Artemis was sick and there was guilt. The feeling of I should have done more, I should have said this. The what ifs began to take over. Before I knew it, it had been months since I had seen friends. I stopped wanting to go anywhere. I stopped working out. I stopped caring about much other than my kids. I cried in the shower. A lot. I would just sit in the shower and ball my eyes out. I can remember the day I found out she was gone in such detail. But the months that followed her death are fuzzy.
Now a year later I sit here and type. I can say grief is a beautifully tragic thing. Grief makes you feel your weakest. It cannot be pushed through. It has to be felt. It has to be absorbed. You have to let it in and feel the loss. Sit with it. Lay with it. Cry with it. Scream with it. Life continues to move forward and eventually you find yourself moving forward too. But, you move forward a different version of yourself then you were before. Because that grief that made you feel your weakest will also teach you strength. Slowly my shower crying sessions went from daily, to weekly to monthly. SINS has been a creative outlet for me that has made it feel like I can breathe again. She would be so stoked on the brand. There really was no one more Shark In Stilettos then her. She was beautifully fierce. I often reread our last texts. I'm so grateful I have them. I will be honest there are some days that the memories still knock the wind right out of me or bring instant tears to my eyes. But I've learned there is beauty in that feeling, it is a grand reminder of all the joy she brought to my life and the profound impact she had on me.
To anyone who is grieving...there is no final destination. Grief is not a process that you get to an end of. It becomes a part of you. Let it in. Let it teach you strength and the beauty of loving someone. Let it morph you into a more empathetic, kind, person.
To anyone who has a loved one or friend grieving & you are wondering what to do...just show up. I know it may feel awkward & you may not know what to say or do. Just show up. Don't ask what they need. Trust me they don't know. What they need is their loved one back. And that's not fucking possible. So don't ask that question. Don't ask what you can do for them. Honestly that just adds more stress on them. What can you do? You can just show up. Show up with dinner or groceries, leave it on their porch. Leave a note in their mailbox. Check in. Sit with them in silence if you don't have the words. Just show up. Don't tell them everything will be ok. Sometimes the most empathetic thing you can do is acknowledge that things aren't OK, that things are fucked. Just. Show. Up.
To my beautiful friend, Artemis. Thank you for always reminding me you are close. Your friendship has forever left an imprint on my heart. What I wouldn't give for one more moment. One more day. One more drink and girl talk. One more laugh with you. But that's the beauty of life isn't it. Because you never think that that moment or that laugh will be the last one. You think there will be more. More memories to be made. More texts. More conversations. More dancing. You think you have forever. But, you don't. See you when I get there. Dancing and drankssss.....we have lots of catching up to do. Don't worry...I'll wear flats. lol
Love & Middle Fingers,
Leslie