Life is mean(ing)

I have to admit, in my grief, I'm a bit smug. I've talked to many griefy peeps in the past year who have expressed sadness over feeling they have no purpose without their loved one. I don't really know what to say. I can't really relate, because me? I have a purpose. You're looking at it right now. I am determined to honor my wife and simultaneously carve out a new meaning for my life through writing. How am I doing so far? Can you feel the meaning-y goodness?

If you feel that your life has no purpose, I would say that this is an opportunity to scrap whatever you're currently doing with your life, and do anything new. You've already lost everything that mattered: why not finally pursue designer basket-weaving or a degree in mime science like you've always talked about doing "someday?" You can always tell people you're doing it "in their honor" and nobody can bitch about that.

But following through on a new life purpose is hard, even if you know exactly what you want to do. I'm still back living with my parents to pursue my thing, and if the person you're grieving is a parent, well, you know. I've talked to people who feel no reason to live whatsoever, and that's a dark place to be. If you can think of anything, no matter how humbling, that would give your life reason to go on, I'm sure your loved one would support you. So if you always told your loved one how you'd like to learn the cello one day, go buy or steal a secondhand cello and start plucking away, or however cellos work. If it makes you want to keep living, it's what you should be doing, in my clearly biased opinion.