As if Christmas and my narcissistic life in general didn't always bring about a waterfall of emotions,
which has compelled me to regurgitate a weak assembling of my scattered thoughts in recent posts like {this} and {this}.
And then to further feel an urge to write about {this}.
When mere words are not enough.
They never will be.
I have experienced sudden traumatic loss in my own life.
The shockwave of which, has defined me in numerous ways.
For a long time, I didn't feel anything. Effortlessly numb and absentmindedly fulfilled in my emptiness.
The fire in my soul grew dim year after year, before those tiny embers slowly flickered again.
Whereas, the "me" today burns and aches and groans and weeps with a burden of empathy.
It almost becomes unbearable.
This weight of shattered innocence and brokenness.
Lives that will never fully do what they were simply created to do.
While those left behind are always forced to clean up the fragments.
Piecing together a frustrating puzzle of existence, now a patchwork of gaping holes.
That's where we are.
A messy world. Full of messy people. Including you and me.
Sometimes it looks pretty and put together.
The facade that I find myself believing in, all too readily.
Until reality leaves me breathless, and clinging to Heaven desperately.
Because there has to be more than this.
There has to be more than this snippet of life on earth.
More than who and why. this and that.
More than politics
and debates.
More than pain.
and emptiness.
More than evil.
and darkness,
and
dear God,
more than
Fathers and Mothers burying their Children.
...
What offered me hope thirteen years ago,
continues to deliver the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
It is the greatest gift I have this season.
xoxo
{Bon Bon}