Lately I've been navigating a new trail in my mind. It's somewhat uncharted territory. Until now, I've been avoiding seeking this road. I've been visiting a space in my mind that holds those days and moments before, during and after the tragic death of Gord.
It's like I take a back seat and watch...observe my own mind...my memories. It is so difficult to watch. It's as if I am watching a horror movie, I want to cover my eyes.... but a curiosity is stronger. I want to understand what happened. I'm ready to make sense of this.
I find myself contemplating what this event must of been like for other characters in the story.
At the onset of Gord's collapse I sent my parents a text. " Gord has had a heart attack. Please pray!"
They already had their vehicle packed because they had plans to go to the cabin.
By the time they received the news that Gord had not survived the heart attack they were already heading to Hinton. I wonder....
What was it like driving? What did they talk about? What were those 3 hours like for them?
I think about Gords parents, our siblings, our friends.....the shock...the absolute bomb that shook our worlds beyond comprehension.
I think about Gord, I think about how only a couple of hours prior to his heart attack he was sharing a meal with us. He was sharing his day with us. He was so alive.
How does this happen?
I think about what that last hour must of been like for him. I can picture him at cross fit, sitting on the sidelines, drinking water and feeling awful. I wonder if he knew. I wonder if he had a sense of what was to come. I wonder what it was like driving home, feeling that way. I wonder what he was thinking and how terrified he must of been. Something was seriously wrong!
I can remember those last seconds before he collapsed. He had a terror I had never seen in him before. He looked like he was scared to death and like he could burst into tears. I have never felt so helpless.
I know none of this matters now. I know he is no longer suffering. But I love him so much.
I think about the 3 friends that came to the hospital within seconds of the news. I think how they so willingly, without hesitation....stayed with me and accompanied me to say good bye to Gord. I wonder what was it like for them, It meant so much to me...I don't even know where to begin to express my gratitude.
Somehow this is a true story! Somehow I have survived 16 months without Gord. Somehow I picked up the pieces, rebuilt a life that still holds meaning and love.
Sometimes the biggest shock is waking up and seeing that I am OK, that I can still be happy, that my boys can still have a full life. Not only have I survived this tragic loss but I can't help but count my blessings and find so many things to still be grateful for.
Last night at Taekwondo, we did punching drills with padding. Most practices emphasize kicking, so my punching skills are lacking. I kept mishitting the pads. It hurt. You learn quick! You'd think! I was really getting into it. It was fun! It felt good!
I felt a rush go through my hand. I glanced! My hand was shaking intensely and two fingers were swollen. The instructor sat me down and grabbed ice. He checked on me frequently and told me it appeared I was in shock. He grabbed me water. It hit me! It hit me with so much weight. My eyes began to well up. I couldn't help but remember this was what Gord's last minutes were like. He was on the sidelines, they were checking on him, they were giving him water. I couldn't shake these thoughts, these memories. My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of this. After 1/2 h, my hand stopped shaking, the swelling was gone and I had returned to a relaxed state. I realized that this event really did happen to Gord,....However, it had not happened to me. I am so sorry Gord had to experience that. I am still devastated by the loss. However, I am alive, I have a beautiful life. It still boggles my mind that great loss and great joy can and do exist at the same time.
The real shock of this story.... sometimes, for me....is that I am still fully alive, fully living!
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