So much joy is happening right now, you guys. From where I sit at my cozy table in Whole Foods, I’m listening to a Spanish lesson taking place at the table behind me, and I’m watching a cooking lesson take place in the room beside mine. I’m eating a sandwich appropriately named “Southern Lover,” which I obviously accepted as a challenge, and am enjoying to pieces. (It has goat cheese, need I say more?) I’m in a happy place, surrounded by people soaking up fresh knowledge, and my heart begins buzzing, begging my hands to start typing. So, I write.
The week I lost my brother is a complete blur to me, but I clearly remember one conversation I had with one of mine and Kendall’s closest friends. She told me about a night spent reminiscing with his other high school friends, sharing bittersweet memories and stories.
“Ultimately,” she said, “there isn’t any regret. Kendall wouldn’t let us.”
And that’s the most accurate description of my brother I’ve heard. He wouldn’t allow regret. Time spent with him was savored by those he accompanied.
I’ve felt eyes watching me through a grief-shaped lens since the accident. And honestly, sometimes it feels appropriate and wanted, acknowledgment of the vastness of loss. Mainly, I’m re-learning a lot. How to answer small talk questions, navigate the reactions of others, face hard days, and even tiny things like post to social media. I’m seeking the difference between acknowledging and dwelling, afraid to come across as “super strong and over it” or “attention-seeking and unable to move on.”
In all this, what I do know for sure is that I want my grief to speak volumes of the person I’m missing, and my Kendall was a fighter for joy.
So, friends! Here’s what this means for us:
My little blogging space is BACK IN ACTION.
I’m here to recapture excitement and stop allowing joy to go undocumented.
I’ll be sharing some fun Nashville posts and we’ll catch up like old friends. There will probably be a lot of talk about Whole Foods. It’s fine.
LET’S DO THIS THANG.
See you tomorrow, promise!