Love is a funny thing.

When someone says “I love you,” it can be taken in so many different ways. I love who you are, I’m in love with you, I love what you mean to me, are just a few interpretations. It seems that we can all agree that it can be a heavy word with a lot of meaning, but we cannot seem to agree on the exact meaning. That is part of the joy of words, is it not?

I had the honor of knowing two amazing men, who both have passed on recently. One was my Grandpa, the other a shooting star of a deep connection made around the world. These losses hit me rather hard, and left me debating on why. Why it hurts when we lose someone. Why it is so hard if we do not get to say goodbye. Why we put so much weight on words, on love and on death.

Life has not given me much of a chance to slow down recently, as I am persistent in chasing certain goals. But when something shakes your world to where you are not really able to see it anymore, it is a good idea to slow down for a few breaths. So I went for a walk in the woods with Ocoee. I have lived in Gunnison now for months, and have not had the chance to really explore the area. I did not look at a map, and I did not even bring my headlamp (two things I always do). With a storm rolling in the distance, Ocoee and I headed into the foothills, each step requiring effort. As I continued on into this unknown destination of a trek, I began to talk, to Ocoee, to nature, but most of all, to Kyle and my Grandpa. I relived memories, let out feelings and things I had wished I could have expressed. I laughed and cried. But as I continued, my steps were easier, lighter. I still had no idea where I was, or where I was going, but that did not matter. The thunder continued to threaten in the distance, but just in front of me I began to notice the brightness of the sun and the large, white shape-shifting clouds. I decided it was a good time to sit down in the field and just watch them change. I think we should all watch the clouds more often.

So I sat there in the tall grass, watching the world change around me bit by bit. And I thought about love. Of course, I love my Grandpa. He was and always will be a piece of my heart and story. It was easy to tell him I loved him, and I am grateful that I was able to before he passed on.

I never got to tell Kyle that, though. It would not have been appropriate, right? It would have been too forthcoming to tell someone you knew for a few weeks that you love them. But that day in the field, I finally told him. It is not that I am in love with him, but I love who he was in this life, and what he did for me. There should not have to be a time limit to be able to express such a thing. Would you not like to know how you have helped someone in their journey, how much your existence enhanced theirs? And yet, I had held that back.

Death is inevitable, but we treat it as something so terrible instead as a part of life. Yet that is exactly what it is, we cannot have one without the other. This does not mean it is not sad when someone passes on, but to understand why it is sad for you can be a whole other thing. For me, I was sad to lose these connections because it meant that there would be no more memories made with them in this life, their existence has moved on. Just because they have moved on does not mean that they are forgotten. Not in the least. They still live on in my heart, my memories, and my journey, as well as in many others. The way they lived this life, their influence on others, lives on.

They may not be here, but they are loved and not lost.

I reopened my eyes to the sky, thankful. Thankful to have known them, thankful for what they had taught me, in their lives, with their lives, and in that field.

And then I realized I needed to find my way back to the truck. They might not be lost, but maybe I was.