Grief doesn't stop. I can't tell you how many times I've told myself this, but as solidly as I know that grief never stops I hate so much when it sneaks up to try and ruin the day. My instances with it seem to be less and less these days. I never stop missing Cameron and think about him multiple times a day every day, but the sting of grief does lessen as time goes on. That's why I think when it does sneak up on you and grab you by surprise it tends to deeply affect us; at least it does with me anyways.
So here's what happened today:
I've been on a mission to get the most out of my movie pass as possible, and now that school is out I've been seeing like every single movie that even slightly sparks my interest. I had seen one trailer for Adrift, and especially since it's based on a true story I knew I wanted to see it. I wasn't familiar with the story at all, only so much as the trailer reveal: couple falls in love, shares common love of sailing, ends up on a voyage across the ocean, big storm comes and trashes their boat, struggle for survival as they drift out to sea trying to make it to land. The trailer showed a clip of Tami (played by Shailene Woodley) dragging Richard (Actor Sam Claflin) out of the ocean and back onto the boat. Seeing that, and knowing it was a true story I so naively assumed both people made it out of the situation alive (I mean, someone has to live to tell the story...)
Like I said, spoiler alert, Richard doesn't make it. When the giant storm comes upon them Richard is swept overboard and tragically lost at sea. But you don't find that out right away. The majority of the movie scenes that depict the struggle for survival of the lovers turns out to be a fabrication of Tami's mind where Richard does survive the initial storm. I think it is amazing what the human brain is capable of, and Tami's imagining of Richard being with her on the boat as she tries to make it to Hawaii becomes much less a coping mechanism and far more a survival tactic.
To be honest, I can completely relate. There were many times in the weeks and months shortly following Cameron's death where I'd imagine him right next to me: on the couch, laying around in bed, driving around in the car, right where he was supposed to be. I would have conversations with him, my mind easily putting together what his side of the conversation might be. It's been a very long time since I've had moments where I needed to imagine him right next to me, but it's been the comfort I needed in times of great distress. My best friend Brittany passed away in December, and even though my dad attended that funeral with me, I still needed Cameron sitting right in front of me to make it through that service. When you've experienced something so life-altering, you do what you can to survive and ultimately thrive...
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm hardly comparing what I've been through to what Tami Oldham experienced. I GREATLY admire this woman, after seeing this movie and went straight from the theater to go buy her book (Find it at Half Price Books, they've got is 20% off). But while I know our stories are vastly different, we do share the experience of losing someone we had planned on spending the rest of our lives with. So here's where the movie got me most.
The boat Richard and Tami are sailing from Tahiti to San Diego, Californa is not actually theirs. Once Tami has been rescued the movie jumps some way into the future when Tami travels back to Tahiti to what I'm assuming is collect the boat that actually belongs to Richard. Now at this point, there's not a dry eye in the theater but I hadn't had an emotional reaction to the story yet. I'm not a crier in movies, I do enough crying at real-life events that I tend not to be a movie crier. But like I said the story follows Tami as she goes back to collect Richards boat, and as she walks down into the cabin everything is left untouched, as it had been when they left. Polaroid photos on the wall, all of his belongings in the place he wanted them, books, dishes, clothes, they're all undisturbed waiting for Richard to return for his next adventure. Tami finds the pictures of the two of them and smiles through tears obviously at the beautiful memories but grief overcomes her and she begins to sob. This, this was where I absolutely lost it. The realness of that moment, the moment of stuff waiting in expectation for a person who will never return, the moment of walking into someone space and expecting to find them there, and knowing they won't be. That's what got me. I tried to suppress the tears, feeling a balloon of emotions expending from the pit of my stomach into my chest and up into my brain.
And then, I'm suddenly walking into Cameron's house. Staring at his bedroom door, I can picture exactly what I need to walk in and quickly grab, can feel it at the end of his bed slung right where I left it but desperately wanting everything else to melt away leaving just my few things I had left at his place before he passed. I know the room is empty, the light off and window AC unit not blowing. I know he's not sitting at his computer, or pouring over some obscure theology book, or laying in bed listening to music. I know he's not there, but he should be. I opened the door and no willpower in the world could stop my eyes from falling over the normal places I might find him, empty seemingly waiting expectantly for him to return. It was gut-wrenching, I wanted to run, throw up, scream, break down sobbing, curl into a ball, and any other number of reaction that might feel right at that moment, anything to lessen how awful the realization that he wouldn't be returning to that place.
That real moment happened in March of 2017, but it may as well have happened this afternoon as a sat in the movie theater, credits rolling as the movie ended. I've had flashbacks before, usually triggered by something I'm watching or listening to. I have one of two reactions: 1. allow the emotion to overtake me, cry it out, feel the feels, spend time sitting with the memories, and eventually, the balloon deflates and I can move on. 2. realized I'm not in an appropriate setting to allow that to happen, run to the closest secluded place, try to suppress everything, panic because it's not working, lose control of my breathing and basically end up hyperventilating as I'm trying to quiet the sobs (I'm a very ugly crier, it's not pretty).
#2 started, but I've gotten better at grounding myself when it happens. Usually I'll text a friend, even if I don't necessarily need them to respond it help to speak, or write out, what's happening and remind myself where I am, what's going on, and that whatever memory I've just had isn't what's going on right now (shout out to any friends who've gotten my crazy texting self when this happens).
I got out to my car shortly after and sat and had a good 20-minute mini cry and then was able to move on with my day, but I sat and talked to God during that cry session. I can't help but feel embarrassed when this happens, especially when I feel like I'm making mountains out of mole hills. Nothing actually happened today, I just was able to relate to a moment in a story that someone else experienced. I told God how silly I felt and self-centered I was feeling for reacting to someone else's hardship by focusing in on my own. But softly I was reminded that it's okay to feel, it's okay to have reactions, it's okay to let my story be my story too. Tami Oldham wouldn't be telling her story if it wasn't for other people to experience, feel, and be changed by hearing it.
I feel like a lot of my grief story has been learning how to give myself permission to be human and to hurt. It's is by far so much more healthy to feel emotions and work through the pain than it is to condemn ourselves or feeling in the first place. I went to grief counseling shortly after Cameron passing in order to do just that, work through the emotions. It's empowering to know a year later that I've been given the skills to handle when the things happen. But what I want to grow in not just deal with them and move on, but the embrace them and use them for growth.
I had a friend tell me shortly after Cameron passed that you know the love was real because it wouldn't hurt if it wasn't. There's a reminder of just how much that person meant you when we miss them and when we react to experiencing their memories or memories of their loss. While the experience of flashbacks like the one I had today are far from pleasant, I want to continue to learn how to healthfully handle them and grow from them. Greif is an interesting thing because it hurts so bad, but can be so good for us.
There's a line in the movie where Richard's hallucination tells Tami he wishes she'd never met him because then she wouldn't be in this situation. But Tami realizes that it's worth it because she would have the memories of the two of them to cherish forever. Sometimes I feel like Cameron would say the same thing, but I'm with Tami. Every heartache I've experienced was worth it just to have known and loved Cameron, even if it is just a memory I have to hold onto from now on.
That's all for me today. k thx bye.
Ps. So I actually started writing another blog last week and just hadn't picked it back up and finished it yet. It was more of a like HEY I'M BACK WRITING AGAIN that this is. But as you will read in that blog I'm trying to be better at having the confidence of knowing what I have to say has value and not sitting on it forever before I decide to say it. That's why I'm posting today while the mems are fresh. So look for more spontaneous post like this going forward!
