Monday, May 30, 2016

What Sid taught me

It's been 25 days since my Sweet Sid passed on from this earth. In ways it already feels like it's been an eternity. I've heard many Sid stories, and analyzed every aspect of his relationships- with myself, his close friends, his distant relatives and old girlfriends. After the first few days I started to use these stories to reflect upon my own relationships. In addition to gaining a new group of his friends and family, I have stopped holding back feeling for my own. Love has flowed more openly, filters have fallen down, and I've started adopting Sid's "no shits to give" attitude. 
Carina (not me) and Sid <3
It took some time to shake the sadness off to the point of moving on. I still feel I am wearing a veil that no one else can see, though most are aware of. Some days the veil is thin and I can see through to the brightness all around. Some days, usually mornings when my tear ducts are refilled and ready to leak, the veil feels heavy and least until I let the tears flow and steal some of my sadness out with them.
I know that his absence will always be with me. Though I feel like I had been prepared for it better than many of his family and friends. I knew within the first year of meeting him that he would leave my life too soon. I had no idea I would be blessed with so many moments together, though. That he would confess that I was his best friend, and share his secrets with me, over and over often at early hours of the morning. Or that we would share beautiful imtimacies, some as simple as holding hands on the 367 mile drive from his house to mine.
As I mentioned in my stages of grief, I have reached acceptance. I don't look at his Facebook and expect a message. I no longer here the ping of messenger and hope it's him. I know there will be awful moments in which I blissfully forget he's gone, only to be abruptly reminded... but I can only embrace those moments. I can't spend any more time mourning. Though I will. He would have wanted me to be over it by now (and yet touched by my disobedience). So, I've realized the best way to get through this, is to live. His mom shared a sweet poem with me that summarizes my ambition these last few weeks.
We can't dwell on the deceased. We can only honor their every breath, and every success with our own energy and actions. I'm not going to put his spirit into stress eating bowls of ice cream (at least not too frequently), but allow his love and light motivate me to do one more lap, or make friends with a lonely frustrated child, or wake up early to watch the sunrise. So in addition to honoring him through my own actions, I've noticed myself taking on and modifying my life based on him not being in it to do these things for me. Without further adieu, here's what Sid taught me.
1) Don't give a f**k.
This one will be hard for me, as I've always been quite passive to others by nature. But there's something to be said for speaking tour kind when it comes up... why sit on a long boring trip just because you don't want to insult the person driving.... my fuck farm will always have more growing than Sid's did...but at least I'm learning when to use them. Or when not to. 
2) be nice to others.
Sid disliked most people, and for good reason. He could sniff out the liars and the assholes, and knew most people acted selfishly. But to his closest friends he was loyal as fuck. It didn't matter if they had a shelter to sleep in at night, an abusive girlfriend or a drug problem. He liked people for their absolute core, and he could read that a shit a mile away. His biggest problem was how sensitive was. He would cry over how selfish and ignorant people could be. He would put so much love and care into his friendships (in his own way) and when people wouldn't reciprocate the would break his heart, and build up his barriers. But to the people that broke through, he would do anything for them. I have learned a lot from his love and loyalty, but mostly for his ability to see and appreciate the truth and trust in the rare people that showed it.
3) don't be sorry, be silly
I know that he didn't originate that quote, but he said it, and lived by it. Sid never apologized because he said ways did what he meant to. But he was great at always adding silliness to a situation. Whether through costumes or just that sweet smile (or shit-eating grin, as some remember it) he ensured that no one took life too seriously. He was always a reminder to me to loosen up and take opportunities to relax as much as to work. And he could bring light to the shittiest situations, even the utterly hopeless ones, like the future of humanity. 
4) search for the truth. Always be willing to look deeper deeper than things seem.
Sid opened my eyes to corrupt governments, drug trades, political heroes and crazy outliers. He taught me to never take anything for face value, to question things, and to be skeptical of the answers you get. I can only imagine how deep I'll get down the rabbit hole he left me, but it's what I've got to do.
5) Dance
Sid danced better than I do, which isn't saying was still goofy as hell. But he loved the music. I strive to appreciate music more, from gheto boys to T swift. And to dance. To shake this booty he loved so much, knowing he's watching somewhere.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you so much. I am sending this to my boys. Perhaps they can learn from the brother they never knew.