Dear Xenia
You said that you aren't over the loss of John, and it made me realize something, as I am still mourning the loss of Mom, but also our dear friend Jim, and yet, even now, I am finding I am also still missing Dad, who passed away some 12 years ago, when it struck me, how can we ever get over losing someone that was so special to us? And more importantly, why should we try to "get over their loss:
They filled our lives with love, with their very presence, their wisdom, their compassion, and even their anger, their own pecularities. Why should we even try to "get over" all that made up our lives?
Maybe we should embrace it, relish in their memories,their smiles, their touch, shed a tear or two and know that right now, they are shedding a tear or two for us, as we stumble forward trying to make sense of such losses, such pain.
Maybe we have lost someone close, though their memory is still there, when we need it, to grab from their spirit, the strength to go forward, to be the person they loved so much, cared about so much. Perhaps it is simply doing what we used to do, but with more purpose now.
When Mom died, I thought I had lost my anchor, then when Jim suddenly died not even a month later, it was like I was drowning. Yet I am still here, doing things I couldn't do for the years David and I cared for Mom in the home. But as I walk around our little patch of garden, I shed a tear, as I think of how Mom would love to go past the raspberry bushes, how she would be able to reach out and pick one or two raspberries herself and I know she can't. Then I simply smile, because I can do that, for her. I can stroll past the raspberry patch, pick a juicy berry and enjoy its flavor, as she did. Or I can bend down (carefully) to have a strawberry and recall how Mom's face would light up whenever I brought her in one or two off our Balcony when we lived in the city.
I sit on our back porch, and smell the cinnomin carnations I planted, look at it and smile, shed another tear or two, knowing how Mom would enjoy that scent, how her wrinkled face would break out into a smile as the scent from the wild rose bushes would waft past the back porch.
I take another sip of coffee, knowing how crowded it would be on the porch, with the dog, me, David, and Mom, had she lived to see this place, though knowing that it would never be, as her Doctor doesn't make house calls to this little community. Still, it is nice to imagine it, to see her sitting there, watching the wind blow our small grace smoke tree bend in the wind, or see Molly (our Jack Rusell) chase a flying bug.
Or how her eyes would light up and sparkle as the hummingbird would come to taste the various flowers we have sprouting, the SnapDragons, the Morning Glory. She would have loved it up here, but maybe, she is, just not as close as I would love, or maybe in some way, she is closer than had she been sitting on that porch.
Get over the loss? No I think instead I will choose to accept that only a small part of her is gone, for what really mattered, that face, that smile, that loving touch still exists, just that it is residing inside of me, not around me, and you know, I think that touch, that love, is even stronger now, because she isn't a hair breath away, she is a part of me, just as John is now a part of you. He hasn't gone, he has just changed his location, to be closer than ever before, and while the physical being is gone, what made him, has not left. He is with you, even if you go out that door, for a morning stroll, he is still there with you, holding you hand, seeing your eyes widen as you see the calvade of life around you.
He isn't gone, nor is Mom, they are with us, will be forever, and so I think maybe, I will try to embrace what they left, try to enjoy their spirit, that resides in my heart, where they will always be. I can't touch Mom, or hold her hand, but everytime I take a walk past the roses, past the raspberry bushes, I will feel her love, her touch, more deeply than ever.
You know, I used say "I Wish Mom Was Here to See This" and now, I don't say it so often, because she is seeing it, through my eyes, and she is smiling. With every tear shed, a warm loving memory blooms inside, and I know, I never want to get over that feeling.
Hugs and Take Care, and enjoy your walks, because you won't be walking alone.
Ian