Today I lost a hero…
Have you ever had one of those moments where something
happens in front of you to someone else, but the underlying truth of the moment
cuts your heart like a hot knife through butter?
That happened to me today and now I sit here and mourn a
hero, or at least someone I revered as such.
I have a friend who has a family member struggling with infertility.
In a casual way she said she would be willing to be a surrogate carrier for
her. She said she would do anything for this person and giving her the gift of
life, in spite of the complications and trouble it would bring into her own
life, would, without any hesitation, do that for her. I hear and watch her
anguish over wanting to be able to support her family member through the pain
and struggle she imagines this person must be going through, even when and if
she doesn’t understand it. You can see the love and concern for her family
member and it’s inspiring, but in this moment, also heart breaking.
I had a hero once. Someone I could talk to about anything.
Someone that I could be my true self around. Someone I looked up to and admired
for their overcoming struggle and strife. I had a hero who I had to acknowledge
in that moment would not and does not care for me that way. Maybe my hero never
did. Maybe my hero was a capacity I had imagined because without it I would
have crumbled under the pressure of life. This hero isn’t someone who even
checks in on me.
My wife and I had to face a terrible & life changing decision
to terminate a much wanted pregnancy due to medical complications. It was the
most compassionate thing we could do, removing the pain and suffering from a
life that would be over before it even had a chance to open his eyes. His name
was James. It’s been almost 2 years since we said goodbye and even as I type
his name my eyes fill with tears of anguish. James changed my life and taught
me that reality isn’t always palatable.
My hero not once has checked in on me. Not once have they
shown any concern. My hero came crashing down from the throne of expectations I
had built them. Reality set in as I watched a family member truly care for another.
I realized in that moment my hero was not a hero at all, but a person that did
not stand up to those standards I had imagined. My hero was less than ordinary
and someone that had not supported me and remains oblivious and apathetic to my
pain. My hero is no hero at all. My hero is a memory that I laid to rest that
day.
Although painful, trauma changes you, and sometimes for the
better. This DOES NOT in any way justify or make sense of the trauma, but in a
simple way, is simply a side effect of that trauma. That’s where I see god. Not
a god that creates pain in order to fit some greater purpose. A god that in
spite of trauma and pain can reveal beauty.
Although I lost my hero, I gained important perspective of
reality and not allowing myself to believe something that is not supported in
action. Action is the expression of the heart and soul. Without action there is
no love.
I hope for someone reading this it can be a rallying cry of
sorts to let go of false heroes and fabricated realities. May you give up any fictitious
reality you’ve created to insulate yourself from pain and embrace actuality,
even if it hurts. Painful reality is far better than a blissful ignorance. Free
yourself from false heroes.
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