CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 1392
Talk about something you lost.
There is a certain art, a way of being, associated with losing things, especially with losing people. I am an organised man, and rarely do I misplace or lose everyday items involved with my functioning in life, because these are items I have a very large control over. If I keep my pen on my desk, or attached to a notepad, or in a bag, then I will never lose it. If I act responsibly with my possessions, the tools I use to carry out my daily life and my job, then I will never lose them. These are simple to understand facts of life. For most common items, it is not easy to lose them if you are careful.
For people, it is a different kind of experience. While a person might feel sad if they lose their favourite hat, or their favourite shirt gets a stain on it that can not be moved, this sadness is associated with the moment. If they lose their book, an item of clothing, a pen, even, then they can go out the next day and buy a replacement item if they need to. People do not fall into the category of easily replaceable, and the sadness associated with their loss is often far more deepest and unmovable then commonplace regret over a lost or ruined item. Most people, are sad, when they lose someone, and for those who aren’t, then it may just be that they deal with loss and grief that way, or that they have committed the crime that occurred in a death, in the first place. Either one is a possibility, however, it is suffice to say that on a large and general basis, when a person loses someone they love, or that they like, then they will be sad. The stronger that relationship was, often, the sadder they are when the person is gone, and this is emotional upheaval changed in strength, once more, by the circumstance surrounding the specific lost person. People can get over friends and family who move away, with relative ease, but it is the loss of someone dear and close, a loved one, a good friend, via death, that is the saddest and most final of all losses. Once a person is dead, then there is nothing that can ever be done to bring them back.
I am an orphan. I am also a widower. I have lost three people in my life due to murder, and none of them even got the chance to die naturally. They were killed because of who they were, the work that they did, and what justice in the world they represented. In death, the amazing lives that they lived have been snuffed out of existence, and only their bodies were left behind. Their spirit, their essence, the things, the quirks, that made them mentally, personally, likeable people, have all disappeared because they died. While they may, and do, live on in memory, it is not the same as having them by my side, as family, as companions, as people whom I love, and who love me in return. I have lost many people during my lifetime, and none of the circumstances of their deaths were fair or just. They were good people, doing good, important jobs, and who had important values and livelihoods.
There is a particular art, a way of acting, of dealing with the situation, that is associated with losing people through death. The person affected by the death, grieves, they mourn, then they accept the fact that they have lost someone they loved, and they subsequently move on with their lives. Some people accept the fact of death completely, and move on, in a way, normal, unchanged, but still remembering how they enjoyed their life with that particular person who has passed on. Some people, however, change, and whether this changed is for the better, or for the worst, is a fact that is only able to be determined by the very living person themselves. I changed the day my parents were killed, and the day that my wife was killed. When my parents were murdered, I didn’t cry, didn’t get overly upset. I had lost all reason, all point, in having emotions that could hurt me that badly, when my parents were gone forever, and the numbness that came over me that day is one that has been almost everlasting. I received the gift of happiness back from my wife when she entered into my life and began loving me completely, as someone real and important. I saw, for the first some in years, in seamless decades, the point of enjoying things, of feeling happy and satisfied with all good things in the world. In her death, I have, once again, lost my reason to smile, to cherish the moment, to be silly and happy for no reason other than joy, other than a pure marvel at the wonders of life.
My aunt makes me smile, today, she makes me happy, but it is not the same. She is my one and only surviving comfort in this world, but I have been around her for so long that I can not help but be who I have become since my parents were murdered. I am aware of the fact that I am an emotionless man, and this does not overly displease me, because it means that I have a sense of purpose, a drive to succeed and to survive, where other people in my profession can tend to get waylaid with emotional circumstances and particular situations. I am above getting emotionally attached to my work, and this way of functioning suits me just fine. However, when my aunt dies, I will have only lost her to death. Her passing, in the future, will not cause any further change in me, because I know, and have known for a long time, that no other death can truly harm me. I will never be happy again like I once was, but, I have lost loved ones to death, and, I already know what it is like. I know what strings will be pulled, and which actions will need to be completed.
When my aunt dies, there will be nothing new in the experience, apart from the fact that she died naturally, and I will feel nothing new, really, just the same, familiar mourning, the same, recognisable, sense of loss. Then, when this happens, and all is done and finished with, I will continue to move on, because even if she was still alive, which she is presently, for the time being, thankfully, nothing could ever change the fact that I feel nothing for no one, very much. Currently, I feel something for her, love and gratitude, but, when my aunt dies, I will be truly alone, left with the memories of the four people who have so strongly inhabited my life. When my aunt dies, I will be truly alone, and, as I do now, I will continue, because I feel nothing, and no one, no single person, can stop me.
In the past, the death of the people I have loved has, indeed, affected me in some way. Currently, I have only my aunt to lose, and even her death will not change the way I function on a daily basis. I have lost three people during my life, my father, my mother, my wife. I have next to nothing, I have, only one person left, now, to lose, and, nothing will ever change with me, because I it has been too long since I was first affected by death, for me to change back. What will be, will be, and I accept death for what it is, the loss of someone alive. While I may mourn, in the future, I am, who I am, now, as I have been for most of my life. I am a man, who sees very little point in being overly emotional. I have changed because I have lost someone close to me, through death. I will not change anymore, I will not change anymore, ever. Nothing else in this life will harm me, ever, and this is a fact that I do not mind. I function, I feel, I am, who I am, and I accept that, completely.