Today a friend asked me if I had a good day. Today didn’t feel like a “good day.” It just felt like any other day. Nothing of note really happened.
But nothing bad happened either.
So why shouldn’t I label today as a good day?
This was sort of a lightbulb moment for me. I’ve always been the sort of person to label days like today as “eh, just days” or call them “bad days” simply because nothing super extraordinary happened.
That’s a really messed up way of looking at life.
And while part of me would like to label every day since his death as a “bad day,” I know that’s a hideous way to live. It’s also not how he would want me to live and I know that for a fact because we had a whole conversation about it hours before he died… because he knew… we both knew… that it would be the last time we ever spoke to each other.
I simply cannot let the sorrow of his death eat me alive – or the sorrow of countless other tragedies (and mini tragedies) I have experienced in my life. I cannot let them infect my present or my future.
Inside, a part of me will always be screaming like I did the moment I received the call that I was dreading. A part of me wants to call today a bad day because I’m thinking about him and any day that I engage that sorrow is “bad.”
But that’s not the right way to approach life. I need to redefine my concepts of bad days and good days.
I need to give myself the freedom to accept goodness and contentment and not tie everything to the sorrow that came before.
I will no longer label days as “eh just a day” or call them “bad days” simply because I felt raw emotion. Those days will still be good, because in the moment of that day nothing bad happened – just memories and life – both of which are very good things.