You Will Need Other People

This blog that I have created, and seemingly neglected at times, is mostly one where I provide the few that read this blog with rough drafts of short stories I’ve written. Some are real and some are not. But I have been thinking a lot lately about a lot of different things and I wanted to take the time to get some of these thoughts out. Feel free to continue forward, or go back to browsing Facebook or Instagram, I won’t be offended if you don’t read through the whole thing. I don’t usually attach photos with my blogs but I felt a picture of the mug that got me thinking was beneficial. It says,

“You’ll need coffee shops and sunsets and roadtrips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs, but people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else. A living, breathing, screaming invitation to believe better things.” – Jamie Tworkowski

I have never been good with death. Never good at accepting it, or understanding what’s next. I know that people continue on with their lives. Some would say that they move on. I think it’s more like learning to live differently. You never really get over losing someone significant, you just change the way in which you go through everyday life because you have to. The changes made are dependent on how close you were with the person that passed away. This past Christmas break, my Uncle Terry passed away, relatively suddenly, on Christmas Eve. If I am being honest, I was not that close to my Uncle Terry, but he and my Aunt Pat had been married for almost as long as I have been alive. His memorial service was held a week after his death, and the room was filled with unfamiliar faces. Of course, all my aunts and uncles on my mother’s side were there, to provide support for their sister. The other half of the room was filled with his childhood friends and family. When the actual service started, the pastor gave a short intro and then gave the floor to those who knew him best. There were numerous stories provided, mostly by those who I did not recognize. It was as if my uncle had this whole other life that I didn’t even know about. He was another person from the uncle that I had known. One who had stories upon stories upon stories coming from the voices of strangers around me. They were crying as they spoke, grieving the loss while reminiscing his life.

I filled my mug from To Write Love On Her Arms with a juice of some sort a few days after his memorial, and I read that mug over and over. “You will need other people.” Not only that processed but the fact that it goes on and reads, “You will need to be that other person to someone else.” There are a million and one ways to be significant to someone. The number of ways in which we effect everyone around us in somehow is intriguing for me, and I think that idea is what I keep coming back to. Every single person has a life just as complicated and beautiful as your own. My uncle had people that were his people. People that he needed, and that were meaningful is his life. He was needed and compelling and momentous for those who wanted him around.

I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions, and I know a little over a week in is probably a little late to start one, but I hope to stop and remember sometimes that everyone around me has a life as noteworthy as my own. And I want to continue to be an invitation to those around me that there are better things ahead.


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