Soulmates Without a Choice

I recently went to Barnes and Noble to pick up a book for the trip to Florida my family is taking.  When I was there, I decided to look in the section for grieving.  There I found this book called Grief One Day at a Time by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D..

If any one is dealing with grief, I would highly recommend this book.  It starts with a quote,  a summary, and  states a lesson at the bottom of the page. I have only had it a few days now, and the meditations are beautiful to read and help to know what grief can look like. Here’s the passage that stood out to me:

“I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything.  Maybe we’re from the same star.” -Emery Allen

With one or sometimes a few special people in our lives, we share profoundly close bonds.  We sometimes say we are soulmates with these people.  Such relationships may be between lovers, friends, or family members.

When a soulmate dies, our grief is especially hard.  We understood, opened fully to, served, and challenged each other.  We were the heroes of each other’s lives.  But now that this person has died, we must learn to live without our champion or other half.

When a soulmate dies, we must mourn as we loved: heroically, grandly, and fully.  Our grief will be as big as our love, and we must find equally grand ways in which to express it.  This takes outsized courage and fortitude.  We must be our own heroes on the quest for healing.

Lesson:  When my soulmate dies, the only way to heal my grieving soul is with mourning that is as large as my love.

As a twin, you are forced into being soulmates. When you spend every moment of life with each other, you can’t help but be their other half.  To be there through every drama, every heart-break, every boyfriend, every failure, every success.  Every moment of life.  You know each other inside and out. Even when the other strays from the path, they are always the same.  I remember coming home from Purdue after my freshman year, and wondering what waited for me at home.  What Ryane would I find?  The rebellious, hellion that I left at home when I first went off to college?  No.  I came back, and she was the same, Ryane I had always known.  The separation made us both realize how much we meant to the other.  It was an ache that we both ignored.  We avoided calling each other during the year, because we didn’t want to acknowledge how much we missed each other.  But when I came home, she was exactly the same.  The same person, I had grown up with my whole life.  The same person who would constantly push me out of my comfort zone.  She was my comfort, my home.  The one I could ask my most insecure questions too.  The one who told me to embrace my awkward and nerdness, because she knew it was special.  She is the reason I am who I am today.  Because if I didn’t have someone every day, telling me how special, brilliant, and important I was, I have no idea where I would be.

This passage was beautifully written.  “When a soulmate dies, we must mourn as we loved: heroically, grandly, and fully.”  To know that I deserve to mourn in such a grand way.  Because I loved her so much, as did so many people.  It is okay to hurt, loudly.  This is a healthy way to grief.  I believe that’s why I blog.  Because she deserved this.  She deserves to be missed out loud, publicly.  She deserves to be remembered every single day.  To be talked about, in every moment.  We were each other’s heroes.  I was her conscience, and she was my guide to seizing the day.  We were one in the same, made by the same environment.  I could never ask for a better soulmate.  I know she took parts of me with her, and  I cannot wait to be reunited with her years and years from now.  As if we had never been apart.

 

**My family leaves tomorrow morning at 4:00am for a much-needed family vacation (It’s been about 8 years since our last vacation together).  Please pray for our journey and for our healing.  Thank you all.  Happy Thanksgiving.