AND THE SUN WILL RISE AGAIN

Grief is the most complicated of pains. The realization that the person we've held so closely is no longer here, creates a despair like no other. It's the type of pain that simultaneously compresses and pulls in all directions. The type of hurt that consumes.

Claudia Alejandra Vera was one of my favorite people on this earth. She is (I use "is'" because this will always be true) more than an Aunt, Godmother, or close relative...she is my second mother. I love her with all my being. Undoubtedly, the loss of her physical presence will always be the deepest pain I've ever felt.

But I feel her light circulate in my veins every day. She inspires me to bask in all that God and the universe have given me, and all that I have manifested within myself. To grow both in light and darkness. Her soul is a seedling in my soul that'll only continue to grow into a beautiful flower- a manifestation of all that she was and will forever be for me, for her loved ones, and for the undeniable mark she left on this world.

As of late, I've struggled to find the right words for how I feel at this time. It's difficult to articulate our pain in a way we feel comfortable when it's something that never sits right or makes sense or feels fair. I've struggled to find the right words because there aren't any. It's precisely what makes loss so complicated. But the words I have written all convey the same: the paradox of loss is that it encloses and expands.

At one point or another, we encounter what's perhaps the scariest consideration of all: our insignificance. We know that just as we're born into this world, we'll quickly fall out of it. Our bodies and voices, a recollection. But there's something to be said about this inevitable consequence of loss. That fear of our insignificance, our frailty...couldn't be farther from the truth. Our bodies have power. Our words, our lessons, our experiences, our relationships... they all culminate into an embodiment of power and influence for the people we encounter in this journey. It's up to us to impact the lives we touch and create positive change. We are anything but insignificant.

I'm still a strong proponent for writing clear and hard about what hurts... regrets about the past and fears about the future, challenges we face, inner dialogues in conjunction with external forces- writing about the thoughts that keep us up at night. But I've also become much more persistent in my need to write about the other things... about the feelings we get when things are good. And for me, some of those include:

The warmth of a familiar hug, a kiss on the cheek from my parents. Crisp tereré on my lips as I reminisce with Brenda, Sofia, and Mateo on a warm Buenos Aires day. The tightening abdominal sensation of laughing to the point of tears when my friends and I dance along to 2000's bubblegum pop. The adrenaline of spontaneously jumping into the ocean with my best friends and the pure bliss of surrendering to the sunset encompassing the space around us. The feeling of becoming so invested in a creative project, coming closer into contact with what my future career holds. Believing in the need for change and actually doing something about it. Using my own pain to advocate for those who've been silenced through my passion for storytelling. Experiencing my own growth as I act on the wisdom I've acquired from past mistakes. First hand experience of just how far I've come.

It's important to talk about these things. They're what reflect the light within and around us. They're what give us hope.

And yet, sometimes we'll forget. Inevitably, there comes a time when "how are you?" becomes the hardest question of all. We'll start to wonder... what lies ahead? How do we take another step? Even with just three words, this question can inflict so much pain. How can we even begin to respond when the words to describe our pain will never exist?

Even so, at the core of this question lies hope. It's proof of the constant return of light. It emerges in both the good and the bad, in the little things and the big things. In the moments we feel pure bliss and pure adrenaline. It's a reminder that loss, the most excruciating of obstacles, is what enables growth. It's proof of the life in our souls.

At the source of all the wisdom that Claudia gifted me during her lifetime, lies something that guides me every day. It's what fueled her pure resilience. It's the power that's instilled when when we remind ourselves that despite it all, we're still alive. And what a gift that is.

Though I'll never find the words to describe all the light Claudia created in me and the darkness of her departure, I'll never give up. Claudia always encouraged me to write and that's exactly what I'm going to do: write about the complexity, the love, the light... the beauty of life.

I want to close with an excerpt from the poem I wrote two weeks after Claudia's passing. The poem and the words that follow stem directly from the impact of her legacy.

So in the mean time,

take a deep breath.

Feel the wind in your hair,

the salt in your toes,

the sun in your soul.

Feel the life.

And just know:

One day you'll feel hope.

Because even after the darkest of nights,

the sun will always rise.