The Results Are In

(Kevin's note:  Many remember when this shocking event occurred.  I am re-posting as part of my own recovery process as well as to encourage others in their challenging journey of healing.  I think it captures so well the emotions I felt at that moment in time.  Thank you for walking with me.)   

I’m sure you’re already aware of the travesty.  I, however, just found out this weekend.  This is extremely difficult to write, yet I feel as if telling you will in some way help me to work through the physically draining emotions … emotions that I’ve wrestled with since yesterday afternoon.  Please be patient with me as I write these words.  You may have known for some time, but for me, I literally discovered the news only a fresh day ago.

I found that there are five steps to grieving.  I hit the top two simultaneously:  Denial and Anger.  I brushed over the third and forth:  Bargaining and Depression.  This short essay will graduate me past the fifth and final:  Acceptance.

They could’ve told me in person.  I didn’t have to find out the way I did.  Although, if I’m really honest with myself, I don’t think there ever is an easy way to find out.  That said, I just think there should’ve been a way other than how it happened for me ... at a crowded supermarket check out stand.

Trying to make sense of it, I whispered under my breath, “No.  It’s not possible.  Why?”  Again I shook my head and perhaps a bit louder uttered the definitive word, “No”.  The word was loud enough that I’m fairly sure the unknown patron standing behind me became aware of my inner struggle.  Admittedly, I was unprepared to handle the initial shock of this information.  It was odd.  I felt the air entering and exiting my lungs become shorter and more frequent.  I began to feel lightheaded.  My body had a sensation that was not enough to call dizzy, but more like a disoriented feeling.  My legs were starting to fold.  Instinctively, my right hand successfully found its way to the stability of the candy rack found often in route to check out registers.  Again I pondered, “How could this happen?”

From this point, I can only remember brief flashes in time.  As if my mind would only allow still pictures and not the luxury of replaying a full motion memory clip.  So, I will try, as best I can, to explain the choppy sequence of events that began to unfold.  My right hand was no longer bracing the candy rack, but now held a Snickers candy bar.  I don’t recall how it got there.  I only know it was there.  Shortly thereafter, I may have blinked.  When my eyes re-opened, I saw an empty Snickers wrapper atop my widely expanded, now sweaty palm.  A hint of chocolate began to linger on my tongue and I felt some recently melted evidence taking hold on the outside, left corner of my mouth.  Like grace filled manna from Heaven, it was truly satisfying.

With the help of the Snickers bar, my mind began to clear.  Looking down at my hand, I saw my fist close tightly around the defenseless wrapper.  I refused to relax my grip.  I instead wanted to hold onto this lifeless object tighter and tighter.  It was an object that provided a predictable response to my unpredictable emotions.  My eyes now shifted focus from my clutched fist to the cold floor.  My mind was reeling.  Do I collapse to the floor in anguish?  NO WAY TO THAT QUESTION!  With my grief stricken body still completely exhausted from yet untold trauma, I was able to gather up enough strength to rip off my shirt, spike it to the ground, pound my bare chest, and passionately yell for all to hear , “WHY?  Why am I not People Magazine’s choice for Sexiest Man Alive?