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Especially because it is so fitting in what is going on in my life at the moment and the lives of loved ones, I would still like to get into this subject.
If you haven't read what has happened in yet, you can do so here:
https://steemit.com/loss/@misslasvegas/i-had-sad-sad-news-last-night-and-i-need-your-help
and here:
https://steemit.com/ecotrain/@misslasvegas/back-in-ireland-after-two-emotional-weeks-love-and-light-even-in-the-darkest-of-times
# Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
This question and the answer to it has been coming up all through our time in Holland the past few weeks.
When I watched my friends go through the hell of working up to the funeral of their beloved son - the question lingered and the answer showed. Of course, they were going through something horrific. First the terrible news that their child had died and then having to arrange a funeral for someone you would have hoped to keep with you for a long, long time - longer than your own life, all the while mourning and remembering the boy that he was and the man that he should have become.
Seeing them this way, I would have gladly given an arm or a leg to bring him back.
And then the words:
### "We were honored to have him with us, we loved him with all our hearts and all of our body and soul and he took a piece of us with him when he left us, but our love remains."
I heard it, not only out of the mouths of the parents, the family, the brother, the friends, us - but from their hearts, our hearts. Even though his death left a big gaping hole in our hearts - his memory remains and part of that hole is filled with love.
***source: www.pinterest.co.uk***
So would it have been better never to have known him so there was no chance to feel pain when he got taken? I can't speak for others, but my answer would be a big NO.
And the least of all, I can speak for his family - his parents and his brother, but I believe with all my heart that - even though it was short... too short - they would have been different people if he had never existed and never had the chance to know and love him.
# This experience of loss is the single most powerful experience after birth
At least to me. I believe that this question will produce many different people with a many different views and opinions.
### To me, love is life. Just like the death of the physical body is part of life.
When I was in Holland, I was separated from my children longer than ever before. At least the youngest three. I had never been away from my youngest (4) for longer than a day! I was so consumed with seeing and ***feeling*** what unfolded in front of me during these sad and dark days - which would occasionally show a spark of hope and light, but with love always present. Love for their son who they put into this world, their brother who he fought with but also learned to share, play and live and love with, love for the grandson, who they naturally loved with all their hearts, as they loved their children, love for their nephew and cousin, their friend. But also very visibly present: the love for each other.
Love because they are family or even newly developed love for those unknown before, but who also loved Levy.
If you'd have seen it, you would have almost admired their love and their strength - only to realize that there is nothing admirable about losing a child. Because I was so consumed by this as well as trying to be there as well as I could be, I sometimes didn't think of my children.
I knew they were in good hands and having a good time, far away from this pain and sorrow.
But then it would happen that my thoughts would go to them and all of a sudden, fear would grip my heart.
Crazy, terrifying thoughts would enter my mind. I would remember what happened to Levy and how quickly life could be snuffed - like a candle in the wind - and I would instantly be gripped with fear. Then my heart would tell me that it was my mind, my ego, that was playing tricks on me, I decided I didn't want to feel this fear and it would disappear.
It's no way to live. One can not actively love if he or she is always in fear.
# This year in November...
This year in November it will be 15 years since one of my dearest friends died suddenly. He was only 31 years old and had just started to live his life to its fullest. This man, I know no one who could have a bad word to say about him. Not then and not now. The cliche saying: "The good die young", was written all over his abrupt passing. I cried and laughed in his memory and I felt deeply for his mother, father and siblings when they had to say goodbye forever.
One year later, his mother invited me to attend a memorial. His ashes had been spread out on the funeral site. She told me that it was the last time they would go there, because they knew he wasn't there anymore...
I had just gone through a bit of a 'not-so-nice' break-up. Two of his sisters were married and from what I could see: very happily. When I saw the kind of love they had for each other, I felt immense joy for them but at the same time a little sadness for my situation. Right that moment, I felt like someone put his arms around me. Something my friend would have done. I know it was probably my mind playing tricks on me, but it felt so real that I wanted to tell them that he was still there, with us. I realized that they each probably had their own experiences, this one was mine...
Thinking of him, even now, beside the sadness about that I will never see his loving face again, there is also the love I felt for this person who so drastically changed my life, just by being in it. The person can be gone, his memory and the love will always remain.
Would it have been better to have never loved this friend in order to prevent any heartache? No. Definitely not.
Even the way we met was a special way. The way we were when we were together was a special way. I met another friend through him, who is ***as*** special to me for the past 23 years... I wouldn't have had that without my love for him. He gave me something that could never be replaced: his undying love.
# The memories
The week leading up to Levy's funeral and the day itself were heartbreaking. And this is an understatement.
To see and hear my friends in so much pain over the loss of their child and brother- and knowing there is nothing you can do or say to take their pain away has left me with such feeling of helplessness. All of a sudden, those science-fiction series make sense and if I could for one moment summon a time-machine or Doctor Who, well that would be awesome. But I can't.
One evening I heard E. say to T. that I just should never go back home. The first thought that came to mind was that I had to move back. My second thought was that I couldn't. I was very grateful for the fact that I hadn't moved on yet, that I was still living in Europe and not in Central America or elsewhere far way. It would have been a lot harder, if not impossible, for me to be there ***that*** moment if we had. I realized that they were more important than living in a tropical paradise far away, so maybe I had to rethink my options and remain closer. Not back in Holland and maybe not even in Ireland, but close enough...Why move into the unknown in the hope for a new tribe/family when my children, siblings and these people are really all the family we need right now.
These are the lessons I have learned so far from this journey the past few weeks. I am sure there will be more to come.
And I can thank their sweet boy, who's brightened up so many people's lives...
And there is the reminder that we should all try to be nicer to one another. Before you know it, life can end. Just like that.
Hundreds of people who came to the street where he died to show their love for him and their respect.
The hundreds of people who left hundreds of flowers and let off white balloons in his honor on the street that was closed off from 4 ways for 3.5 hours...
A young, 14 year old boy, who had touched the lives of so many. How many, even his parents never knew...
And as they said it too: If one good thing has come out of his death, it was to see just how much of an impact he had on other people's lives in his short existence on this earth. He was always there to help others, make sure they got home safely...until one day he didn't.
# It is better to have loved and lost...
Gone but not forgotten, his memory lives on in all who knew him.
We can look at the pictures that were taken and know what a wonderful young man he was.
As the pain remains for the parents and brother, our pain will move more to the background, but the love will never disappear.
I am proud to have been called 'our second mother' by him and his brother.
I am happy that sometimes they really loved what I cooked and could never get enough of it.
I am glad that for a while, they were at my house, nearly as much as their own. That I got to spend time with them, seen my daughter argue with them and play and laugh with them. The last 7 years, this had become less because of our move, but there were still the short phone conversations I had with Levy now and then:
"Heeeeey Mir! How are you? How are the kids?" Always full of warmth and joy. "Heeey Levy! How are you and how is school?" There would usually be a short conversation about both of our lives until he told me that his parents weren't home at the moment. I would always hang up the phone with a smile. I did the same about 2 weeks before his death. At least I had that last chance to hear him talk and put a smile on my face.
We'd been speaking of him flying here to practice his English as soon as he was allowed to fly alone. This will unfortunately never happen. But we will never forget him, the laugh on his face and in his voice and with that, we keep him with us just that little longer...
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