Whatever I feel is the right feeling

Lately I’ve been thinking about the concept of feeling bad for not feeling bad.

Mostly, this stems from the recent passing of my friend. His death has greatly saddened me and our enclosed circle, and even though I consider our circle to be the people who love him the most, for some reason we feel as if we don’t feel sad enough.

For example, a part of me feels like our mourning should’ve been longer or perhaps heavier. We shouldn’t be going out on the weekends or laughing at lunchtime, we should be in bed sobbing. Our dear friend is gone! He is never to return! Life should have stopped for all of us.

I know that’s not how it works. Everyone mourns in different ways and just because someone doesn’t show it doesn’t mean they’re not mourning. The world moves on.

It’s so strange. I completely agree that you should never feel bad for not feeling bad – whatever you feel is the right feeling. I know I want to be happy in life. I know Jackie wants us all to be happy. Why is there such an unsettling feeling of betrayal when we actually are happy?

Why do people judge us? Why do we judge ourselves? Who determines what the “appropriate” period of mourning is? Does such a thing even exist? How is friendship determined based on how long or hard you mourn?

I mourn for Jackie in little inconspicuous moments that pass through my everyday routines. Sometimes when I am driving and old 2000’s songs come on, I think of Jackie and sing along. When I see an orange butterfly I wonder if it’s him fluttering by (whose idea was it that you become a butterfly after you die?). It’s the little things that catch me off guard – a stranger’s laugh that sounds like him, his contact name and photo when I scroll through my address book on my phone to call someone else, a motorcyclist passing by me in the HOV lane. Little moments that make me think of Jackie and remind me that he is no longer here. Those are the moments I mourn for an instant and then I am back to my life.

These little moments add up, and once in awhile the weight of it all hits me and I end up looking through old messages and photos only to make me miss him more. I try my best not to regret anything about our friendship – all of the “I could’ve been there/done that/said this/etc.”. Maybe that’s impossible to do. I try to not let the regrets blind me from all the goodness that came out it all.

For the most part, I am happy. Some days, I am very happy. I guess this is all a part of life? One life leaves, new ones enter. The sun still shines and the rain still pours. Time doesn’t stop ticking away.

Maybe we’re all just here for a good time, not a long time.

Sincerely, Loewe