“Everything old, everything that needed to be purged and released, it was time for everything to come to the surface.”
That quote is from 2018 and it’s about the volcanic eruption that took place in
Hawaii.
And it’s THE 2019 quote for me.
The past year has been a year of upheaval and unexpected transformation. Maybe it has also been the case for you in a way or another. Maybe your “volcanic eruption” has been an illness, a phone call that turned everything upside down or something else.
Now, there is more than before.
These words often come back to my mind.
I don’t see any elegant way to make a transition so I’ll just write things down.
A little over a year ago, I lost my brother.
As you may know, he is neither gone nor dead. But lost for now.
Harder than mourning the death of a loved one.
That’s the first time that I talk about it in that way. 9 very difficult words to write.
We grew up together, like twins, “almost twins” being born with a year apart precisely.
We adopted rabbits at the same time, each our own. Bobby, a white rabbit for him and Bouh a black bunny girl for me.
I saw him build his own house with his own hands. We went to Time Square in New York together on New Year’s Eve. We went to the highest tower of the world in Chicago. We slept in the Sahara Desert and admired the stars.
We went to Ireland, the Netherlands, together.
And so much more.
We shared our joys, our sorrows. We made a million memories during those 28 years spent together.
And he would ask me:
“What’s happiness for you?”
knowing that we would both answer:
“Happiness is being with you” like Cameron Diaz in Vanilla Sky.
Answering each other with lines from movies we’d seen together was one of our
favorite games.
Despite some disagreement from time to time, harmony and understanding were
perfect between us. These kinds of relationships where you understand one another
with just a gaze, a smile.
Then, a volcanic eruption occurred in his life, our lives changed.
I am not ready to write what happened. We are not mad at each other.
The love we have for each other will remain, that’s all that matters right now.
I will only say that when I heard the news, I got overwhelmed by grief, confusion and agony like I had never experienced before.
Not so much at that moment, when I wanted to believe that where is life there is hope.
But a year later, the seism and its repercussions are felt even more strongly that I had maintained in my heart that thought that things weren’t so bad.
Every morning for about a month, I would wake up wondering if there would be an end to the pain and suffering. Inside me, I was screaming like a wounded animal. A contained cry.
But no tears. I cried until each drop of salty water was out of my body. My own mind was tormenting me.
I was constantly thinking of the thousands of memories we had, wondering “why” even if that mental spiral didn’t bring any answer or peace. It wasn’t like a “separation” or “loss.” That was a death. That was mourning.
The unique relationship I had with my brother, the most precious thing for me, all of that had disappeared.
The relationship that mattered, so, so, so much for me...was gone.
And yet…
Now, there is more than before.
When Alexandra Franzen, an American blogger and writer shared these words, they went right to my heart:
“As I write these words, I am looking at the ocean. Today, the water is silky, calm and still.
Tomorrow, who knows? I’m sitting just a few miles away from the world’s youngest black sand beach.
The beautiful newborn beach forged from last year’s disaster. (The famous volcanic eruption of 2018.)
Hawaii has five hundred acres of new land that didn’t exist before.
Loss brings new life. Grief brings the opportunity to rise and begin again.
Even though my heart is still very tender and bruised, even though my optimism has been shaken and tested,
I am choosing to believe that the best years of my life are not in the past.
The best is still yet to come.
Many things have ended. Many things will be born.
Now, there is more than before.”
Yes, there is much more than that.
The good memories with my brothers will always be with me and always a source of joy for me.
I’m looking up and I see the beautiful black sand beach. I can see it very well right in front of me,
it’s up to me to explore it.
Where I felt like I had lost a part of me, I find out that I have more strength and courage than before.
Now, I’m taking singing lessons (I would have never dared doing it before!)
Now, I believe more in myself and I listen more.
Nothing is set in stone, things are constantly changing.
With up and downs, victories and defeats, progress and setbacks, certainties and doubts,
I’m myself a little more each day.
When you’re ready, your hut (heart—gut) will tell you. You will know. Until then, breathe, hold a friend’s hand, surrender, let the waves and contractions move through you. It’s all happening. Lava cooling into rock.
New earth being born inside your cells. What seems like a “loss” may eventually feel like “more than before.” This might take a while. Tiny steps forward. One day, the ice will melt. Try to take good care of yourself.
You’re doing a great job.
You have nothing to do, but take care of yourself. Nothing but that.
There is no hurry. In due time, you’ll discover a new beach with black sand and your 5 acres of new land!
In the meantime, I’m sending you all of my love and support,
Chloë
Here is the link to Alexandra Franzen's blog.
