Tuesday, July 6, 2010

the pain of the pain

it still hurts.

hurts to know that he's gone. that i'll never get one more conversation. one more hug. one more reaction to news i have to share.

while it still hurts, the pain has gone through changes. it has morphed. evolved. feels different.

it's less physical. it's less about the actual absence (which over time, i've been forced to learn to live with). it's less about the uncertainty of tomorrow (since, over time, the living becomes proof that making it is possible).

but there is what i've come to call "the pain of the pain." the undeniable recognition that i've had to experience this. endure this. that life could hurt this bad. that it's mine to carry.

somehow the thought of the pain, the reflection on the pain, causes pain.

maybe because though i know it may continue to evolve over time, i also know it has forever changed me.  and i liked the me before the pain. or maybe it's because no other pain before this one seemed to so deeply penetrate every aspect of my life. to the point where i can't separate myself from it. and to the point where i know what others who've experienced this kind of loss have said to be true: the pain doesn't go away; you just learn to live with it.

that doesn't really sit well with me. doesn't seem very optimistic. doesn't seem like much comfort. or like any of those other positive things i've always tended to extract from life.

but as painful as it is, it may in fact be real. real life. real pain. real long. really.


  1. Jessica,

    I think you touched on it in this profound statement: "...the living becomes proof that making it is possible."

    I have felt the physical pain of losing a loved one. At the time it literally hurt to breathe. Years later, I realize that the pain was tempered by the experiences I've lived through, both good and bad. I can't tell you the day it happened, but one day I noticed the pain had lessened then eventually faded, especially when I connected with my purpose and focused on living. From time to time, the pain still comes and it helps to celebrate the cherished memories I still hold dear.

  2. Hmmm, yes real life... but the knowledge that you are loved, have loved and God will bring you love again with Jarronn always watching over you. We all love you and keep you held up to The Father. The pain will lessen, and the memories will be refreshing n bring joy to your heart.

  3. "the pain doesn't go away; you just learn to live with it" this resonated with me. I do think that we are only able to live w/ pain once we let God be glorified through our lives.

    Cast all your burdens on to Jesus and he will hear your humble cry...

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  5. Oh Jess...I know you've heard this dozens of times before, but I can only imagine the pain that you are feeling. For me, it still physically hurts to hear the phrases, "since Jarronn died", or "before Jarronn's death"...and it doesn't even take me hearing it--as my heart falls every time I even read those words.

    It's like I'm physically shaken by the painful truth each time...hit with a shudder of reality that my heart still finds unacceptable. Often though, I stop to think of how your pain and sense of loss for Jarronn must be exponentially greater than mine; the pain that his family feels and their memories of him far exceed the times that I knew and loved him.

    The reality is: while the pain is not insurmountable, it will likely be ever-present. It may lessen, swell, or feel different at times. But it will always be there. And that thought, all by itself is heavy...almost unimaginable. You and Jarronn's family don't owe anything to anyone in your grief.

    I do think of Jarronn often though and take extreme comfort in his legacy, and the knowledge that he would not want his loved ones to be crippled (in any sense: emotionally, in ambition, etc) by his loss. He did so much to support and motivate others when he was alive, and he would want nothing less in death. It wasn't his style, and what style he had!

  6. Hi Jessica... I've never had the pleasure of meeting you, but I knew Jarronn since elementary school at BFTA and I just wanted to thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. Your strength gives me much hope in dealing with my own loss. I hadn't seen Jarronn since we graduated from 8th grade... and oddly enough I ran into him at the gym maybe 2 or 3 days before he passed away . He was full of smiles and adoration as he told me about his beautiful wife. I don't know why I chose to comment today... I've NEVER commented on a blog before, but it was on my heart. I know I have some pictures of Jarron from Elementary and Middle school... I'll try to get them together, scan them and send them to Aaron P. to pass on to you if you would like them.

    My prayers are still with you and your family.

    Khadija Carter