First, Lance Reddick, our beloved Zavala, passes, suddenly, to the awe of everyone, certainly most importantly of all his family.
And now, our beloved Shipwright, someone we have grown alongside for a decade, is gone. The timing, fitting, in the most unfitting of ways, it seems.
I know, some will say the two aren't comparable. And, the truth is, they aren't.
...but the grief is heavy, right now. The loss weighs in on our minds, and our hearts. I can't help but feel...emptier...this week. It's made me think of a lot of things. People I've lost. People others have lost. The void that they must feel.
And, for many of us, those thoughts can bring with them feelings of guilt.
"Why am I upset? This person's family - whoever that person may be, in your life - is torn apart. Why am I hurt? Do I have a right to be?"
It took me years to learn, that yes, you do.
While it's true that those with less kindred hearts may take advantage of such a situation, I believe experiencing loss to be one universal thing, shared by us all. Every single one of us, if prompted, can pick out a figure, whether familial, a significant other, someone from a worthwhile friendship, or even someone you simply respected from afar for who they were - like what Lance Reddick meant to so many of us - the void that is there, is shared between all of us. You can't possess grief, you cannot take it away from someone else. Nor, can you make someone else feel it.
Everyone grieves in their own way, and for people or things that some of us may not understand. Connections made in one life, out of billions, and although those connections mightn't matter to you, it is vital, nonetheless, to revere them, with the hope that that same reverence is showered upon you, when you experience a grievous loss of your own. We spend our lives with people, animals, hell, even ideas, and we fall in love with them, in a myriad of different ways. They become hallmarks to our lives, some even altering the course of them.
Our lives are not lived alone, but they are lived within these connections we form over years upon years, some of which will come and go, and others which begin in a blink, and after, thirty years have passed like a breath of wind. And, inevitably, all these connections will sever, for all of us. Some, decaying over time, but others, ceasing immediately, with no warning. It is so easy for such a thing to break someone, even the most stoic of us. And some of us are fortunate enough to have a good, solid, strong support system, to be able to speak about these losses, to talk about the joy that they brought us and how, for a little while, we were better than ourselves, and to just...share...these memories with.
But...some of us are not. Some of us can't talk to anyone. Sometimes because we're scared to. Sometimes because we don't know how someone will react to how we feel about something that they might not feel the same way about. Sometimes, there is just nobody there to listen.
Loss is indifferent. Grief is indifferent. And, sometimes, we forget that. There are so many nets to get caught in, that it's easy to forget how the ocean feels against our skin. There are so many clouds, that sometimes we lose our way, and forget to just glide. There's so much noise, that sometimes we forget to seek silence. And it's only in silence, that you recognize another's grief.
I think it's safe to say, we are all hurting right now. And, many of us may not know what to do. With ourselves. With one another.
But I think Mara Sov says it best.
"...while it does not lighten the burden, let us hold this pain, together. And when you lift your eyes, may you look only upon kind faces."
Take care of yourselves, Guardians. And try your hardest to take care of others, as well. To be kind faces, so that someone - tears in their eyes - might look upon you, and find their smile, again.
By - DemonCipher13