One year

A year ago, I woke up to a voicemail and a text.

The voicemail was from my close friend, who said, “You’re going to wake up to some terrible news.”

The text asked me if it was true that Bruce Nazarian passed away.

Not that I’ve put myself back together from having lost my grandmother just some scant three weeks before, but that news was what broke me.

And it’s been a very difficult year. Putting myself back together has been first priority, and these are some of the days where I feel I’ve not quite succeeded at it.

My grandmother was 95 years old. While painful, her death was not unexpected, and it was something of a miracle that she had held on as long as she had. We had more than a few close calls with her at the last years, but it was something that my mom and I have seen coming. And if that’s the case, you have time to brace for it, to steel yourself – not that it’s less painful, but there is something to be said for forewarning. It’s easier to accept with a forewarning.

With Bruce… there was no warning. Just woke up to this news, and it cost me more strength than I could muster at the time to go into work that day.

The irony of losing someone whom I thought of and regarded as a father figure and finding out on my actual father’s birthday is not lost on me. At all.

The one thing I did learn from this is that there’s some losses that you just don’t “get over”. Those are the losses that you just learn to live around. The reminders crop up everywhere; you skirt around and try to ignore them, because you know too well that you risk falling apart at them. You catch yourself on about to dial that number. And you especially miss just being able to talk to that person about anything.

There have been more hits, but that’s the one that I haven’t recovered from. Not all hits heal. Not all bruises fade.

This one is likely such a one.

But – as before, the only choice I really have is to keep going, and that’s precisely what I’ve been doing.



3 thoughts on “One year

  1. i agree, there are some losses you never “get over”, like you said, you just learn to deal with it one day at a time. some days are bad, some are good, but that loss stays with you, you never forget it. reminders come in several ways. i recently broke down after listening to a piece of music, because the words reminded me of my own loss, and i just…..lost it

  2. You’ve summed it up so accurately, a subject that is so often difficult to put into words. While every loss is unique to each person I certainly connected about catching myself about to call my big brother, even presently, as it has been nearly two years since his death. No, some losses you don’t get over, you just “live around them.” But I am grateful for having had him in my life, just as I am grateful for your willingness to share such a heartfelt and heart-wrenching experience. You never know how your words may help someone…thank you, K.G.

  3. I can totally feel you there. I can’t say that I had that nature of relationship with Bruce, but something akin or very close to what you’re describing here with a highschool (female) friend. We grew into close friends at the time (and I always knew from the get-go it would be being friends and nothing else mixed in). One Monday morning, we come back to school from the weekend, all anxious, some terrified because of an exam. Then before the school bell tolled rumor spreads that my close friend had died in a car accident on the weekend. Minutes shy of the morning break the principal walks into class and confirms the unthinkable: She had actually died in a car crash on Friday night! (talk about getting the rug pulled out from under me…) I fell apart at the funeral and thought I had processed this thing. Turns out I never properly have and it had stayed with me for annother 30+ years until a session in a therapist’s office. Wow! I had had no idea. No, I can’t say that I have ever been over losing her. Sorry, wish I could tell you some smart thing, like it gets easier or any such thing. But then, from knowing your razor-blade sharp intellect and emotional intelligence I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to hear any boilerplate commonplace, washed out one-size-fits-all statement anyway. And you’d be right.

Comments are closed.