I can tell how difficult this was. Your beautiful eulogy gives your friend a kind of life-extension. But also gives solace to those of us who have walked in similar shoes. My dad and I had a strange exchange one day at a store where he worked. He acted as if he barely recognized me. I was so angry when I walked out. Days later, he took his life. So much like you described, I've replayed that scene in my head for the last two decades. Is there something I could've done or said if I had truly looked that day? Or was his mind already made up? Along my journey, I chose to live a positive and creative life both despite his absence, but also because of that absence. We can live for the ones who fell. Thank you for mustering up the strength to share this with us. Another step toward light in the darkness, beauty amongst the thorns.
so, so beautifully written Tobi. i'm so sorry for your loss <3
really amazed by the way you so eloquently put into words so many truths and emotions that are impossibly hard to describe.
i often think about this sentence you wrote: "it's incredible how much we think we know from the tiny snippets we see." social media makes me feel so uneasy - it so easily creates a false sense of knowing about our closest friends without realizing it's been months since we've had a genuine, 1:1 conversation.
i also struggle with worrying about being "nosy" - feeling i should trust friends will share what they want when they're ready - but i've been thinking more and more about how a lot of people want/need the nosy questions as permission to share their darker struggles (captured so well with your question: "Can I ruin Sunday brunch by prying my insides open to parade my pain?"). starting to feel confident it's worth being nosy, even if it means overstepping every now and then.
I can tell how difficult this was. Your beautiful eulogy gives your friend a kind of life-extension. But also gives solace to those of us who have walked in similar shoes. My dad and I had a strange exchange one day at a store where he worked. He acted as if he barely recognized me. I was so angry when I walked out. Days later, he took his life. So much like you described, I've replayed that scene in my head for the last two decades. Is there something I could've done or said if I had truly looked that day? Or was his mind already made up? Along my journey, I chose to live a positive and creative life both despite his absence, but also because of that absence. We can live for the ones who fell. Thank you for mustering up the strength to share this with us. Another step toward light in the darkness, beauty amongst the thorns.
so, so beautifully written Tobi. i'm so sorry for your loss <3
really amazed by the way you so eloquently put into words so many truths and emotions that are impossibly hard to describe.
i often think about this sentence you wrote: "it's incredible how much we think we know from the tiny snippets we see." social media makes me feel so uneasy - it so easily creates a false sense of knowing about our closest friends without realizing it's been months since we've had a genuine, 1:1 conversation.
i also struggle with worrying about being "nosy" - feeling i should trust friends will share what they want when they're ready - but i've been thinking more and more about how a lot of people want/need the nosy questions as permission to share their darker struggles (captured so well with your question: "Can I ruin Sunday brunch by prying my insides open to parade my pain?"). starting to feel confident it's worth being nosy, even if it means overstepping every now and then.
thank you so much for sharing this <3
Beautifully written, Tobi. My heavens.
Hi Tobi, I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. Sending hugs.
Beautifully written Tobi.