The Weight of Our Lives.

I'm sitting here, reflecting as I eat a bowl of warm clam chowder my mom made, and I can't help but think about how wonderful it is to feel alive. Stop for a second and try to think. What can you feel right this very second.
I can feel my strong lungs fill with air.
I can feel the slight tingling on my tongue from the spices in my soup.
I can feel the cool air surround my fingers and toes.
I can feel my heart beating if I really focus on it.

Isn't it so beautiful? And still. Life can come and go in an instant. Some choose to live. And some can't handle the daily struggle, and in a moment of desperation, take their own life.

A dear friend of mine lost someone very close to her recently, and the gravity of the situation has made me so emotional. I went over to her house to drop of a sympathy gift, and though she wasn't home, I saw the weight of the world in her family's eyes.

Nib answered the door, and hugged me. She explained the blubbering that had been occurring all day. But in my eyes, mourning a loss isn't blubbering. It's feeling. It's feeling something so fully, that your heart aches with love and longing for the missing person.

I started to cry as I was talking to Nib. I personally, know what it's like to feel the weight of a suicide. I was explaining to her how much I love Cailie, and how I wish it hadn't happened, when Cliss, Nib's mom, walked up stairs.

I've only met Cliss a handful of times. And still, she opened her arms, and gave me the biggest, most sincere hug. I told her I was so sorry, and her eyes filled with tears, and she said something, that is the entire purpose of this post.

She said:

"I wish people knew how important they were, and the weight that they carry while they were still here. I wish there was some way to always express that they were loved."

I started to cry a little more, and I'm crying now, because though her statement was a few words, it was profound, and large. If you think about it.

The weight of our lives is not carried in the flesh we have on our bones, but in the hearts of all of those who love us. Whether that be friends, family, or pets. We all have at least 1 person who cares for us so deeply that they shed tears when we leave our short span on the earth.






Cailie.
Baby girl. I love you so much. I am so sorry for your loss. I know there is nothing I can do to change what has already been done, but I am here. In every possible way. And I care for you so deeply. You are a soul sister. We have been deeply rooted in each other for a long time, and I genuinely believe that it is something that will only become more precious with time. I love your family. And I'm so honored to share but a moment of your life. Time will heal this hurt. Just trust, and give it time.
All my love,
Alex.

Graveyard.

I worked  a graveyard last night, and though I feel poopy and tired today, I'm happy to have the experience, because now I know how to work every shift at my job.

I don't think I've even announced it on here. I'm awful.

I am currently working as a CNA at Trinity Mission Health and Rehabilitation of Provo. And I absolutely love my job. I joke a lot. About how I wipe butts for a living, but it really is so much more than that. And it makes me feel so happy when I go to work, and get home from work. I really feel like I am helping my residents feel happier, maybe more comfortable, really, making them feel better.

Being a CNA is not for the weak of heart...or stomach. I have seen some incredibly large BM's (Bowel movements. We call them BM's because it gives our residents more dignity, and it's less awkward than asking if they've pooped.), and smelled some pretty weird smells. But it never grosses me out. It makes me feel better that I can help them not lay in their own waste, and feel clean and refreshed.

It's hard being a CNA because you establish relationships with the residents you work with. They become good friends. What makes them smile, makes you happy. And what brings them pain, makes you want to fix everything so they never have to go through that again. It's hard sometimes, because residents are old, and they pass away. I've had that happen recently, and it really made me sad.

You also learn as a CNA, that death is a natural part of the life cycle. And sometimes you feel happy for the resident that passes away, because you know that they are no longer in pain, or confused, or weak. It has really strengthened my personal beliefs in salvation, and the Resurrection.

But as I lay here, partially asleep, I don't regret working NOC (Graveyard) shift. Because as long as my residents are comfortable, than I can sleep later.

-

My complex delirium.
Just became.
A whole lot.
More complicated.