Hunter wonders where I am...........

“ Hey Human!!”

“what is it Hunter?”

“where are you?”

“ I’m at the river right now… I told you I wouldn’t be gone long…”

“…but it’s dinner time – you should be here…”

“How did you even find me so far away?”

“ oh, human, I have my ways… I’m in your head all the time… that’s what we do…”

“well, I’ll be home shortly…”

I had left the house only a couple of hours ago – to visit friends who were having a celebration – not exactly a party – but close enough.  I had debated about going – one more thing to do by myself.  But I knew there would be people I knew and so it was. I met old friends and even made a new one. And it was good to be there for them – to celebrate and give thanks.

On the way home it dawned on me, today is the 14^th- What happened to the 12^th? That day that I’m not supposed to forget? But I did – the date didn’t tap into my awareness til today.  Have I forgotten already? How could I not remember THAT day?  It’s burned into my psyche… but the day slipped past me and I was unaware…

All of this while I sat by the river.  I found a piece of shade and just sat – as we often did.  Just watching the river float by.  He loved to do this…no matter where we were…just to sit and be. The current was a bit strong, the wind making ripples southward, but overall calm.  Two pelicans flying by – in perfect formation – perfect wet landing. Bobbing along together yet apart. 

So - is that what healing does? Help you forget the important stuff?  Or should I say the emotional stuff?  And I struggle now – is it time to let go of some of those memories – at least on a daily basis?  It’s not like my memory is wiped clean.. 
The hard drive is still storing all of it. But maybe I don’t need to download all of it every day…maybe I  can give the computer in my brain a break now and again.

Maybe.

But it is a struggle. A struggle to keep the memories fresh – and at the same time to let go, to move on. Not to forget, as if I could. 12 months, 2 days. And about an hour and a half.

I still wonder what this ‘moving on’ will look like. But I think I have a shot at it- finally retiring for the final time.  No more responsibilities – no more ‘shoulds’ – no more worrying about others when I have not enough energy  even for myself.

Well, except for Hunter Dude,

So next month begins a new chapter.  And it is time.  Time to complete this journey that I didn’t ask for – this journey that I never thought I would take. I was supposed to go first, ya know.

“So – Hunter…”

“Yes human?”

“you know that van that is parked outside?”

“Of course!...”

“Well, we will hit the road in about a month. I’m not sure where we will go, you’ll have to help with that. But we will be on the road. The road to where I’m not sure, but somewhere… you and me, Dude…  We’ll continue on this journey that neither of us asked for – but we must complete anyway...”

“…OH BOY  OH BOY!!! I can hardly wait…”

“Well, you’ll have to – wait that is – a few more days… and you HAVE TO BEHAVE!!VE”

“I’ll do my best…” he says as he looks up at me with those big brown eyes, a smile on his face, nestled under the desk as I write.

“Ok, Dude, you got a deal!!.. start packin’!”

My friends had something to celebrate today – and maybe someday I will as well…

Petticoats...........

It’s the beginning of year 2, 13 months actually, but who’s counting.  Year 2 without Glenn.

And I’ve noticed a shift.  I’m not so focused on the gut wrenching pain of grief. Not so focused on what I cannot do anymore – or won’t be doing with him. 

There is more wondering about what I do next, what holds meaning for me. The petticoat of grief still underlies all that I wear on a daily basis, all that I am and do, but to the casual observer it is not apparent. 

I was rummaging around in the closet the other day, and rediscovered the journals and notebooks of writings that I have collected over the vast number of years.  All the way back to the early 70’s. To another time and other loves.

And I was reminded of how fragile life is – how fragile our emotions – how fragile relationships – how fragile.  At least for me. It seemed like I was always on the edge of a precipice – that still point – that thin place where we experience God. Except that I would not have called it that then.  I’m not sure, sometimes, that I would call it that now.

Looking back is such an interesting journey – kinda like Hunter looking out the back window of his van as we move forward into the future – yeah, kinda like that.  

And I found this story that I had written. I’m not sure when. The only clue is that it originally was typed  - on a typewriter!

She dressed with care that night, knowing somehow that it would be a turning point in her life. The long blue wool skirt and matching sweater would be pretty and yet warm; springs warmth was still hidden under winter's frost.  The doorbell rang, somewhat ahead of schedule. But she had figured on that.  As she opened the door to let him in, she caught a whiff of his cologne - the one she liked so much.  He handed her a bouquet of daises and carnations as he came into her apartment, she reached up to give him a hug in greeting and thanks, and as she did, she could hear the crinkling of his freshly starched shirt. Evidently, he too had dressed with care. Finally, the flowers got put into a pitcher of water and they left the apartment and walked down to the car. She knew they were going to dinner, but he hadn't told her where. After driving up and down shadow filled streets for what seemed like forever, he finally pulled into a parking lot. The valet met them at the door and took the car away. As they entered the restaurant, they were greeted by Fanny, the owner. She led them to their table, guided by the aroma of rich tomato sauce and freshly baked bread.

The room had a comfortable feel to it.  The dark paneled walls were the perfect foil for the warm soft lights cascading down over each table.  There were photos of famous and infamous guests lining the walls, roses on the tables and candles everywhere.

Diners in pairs were talking quietly over salads and desserts.  Waitresses were bustling about, obviously having consumed more pasta than they had served.

While they sat there deciding what to eat, and sipping brandies, they could hear the words to what had already become their song, "a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh, as time goes by" Eventually they ordered and bit by bit the various courses came and went. Somewhere around the end of his meatless spaghetti and her veal parmesan, he put down his fork, took hers and put it down as well.  "Will you marry me?" he said as he took her hand in his.  Although she had been expecting this, she was still caught off guard - the words mean so much more when spoken out loud. This man had taught her to love again.  "Yes, I'll marry you - I'd be honored to be your wife."

The formalities over, his grip on her hand loosened, he relaxed and so did she. Over bananas foster and coffee, they started talking, making plans, deciding who to tell first.  After what seemed like a very short time, the waitress came over to their table and gently asked them to pay their bill - it was closing time.  As they looked around, they realized they were in fact the last to leave. Walking to the car, she happened to look up at the sky. The moon was full to overflowing and bright - like a beacon guiding the way.  She knew, finally, everything was going to be all right.

And so it was.  We were married September 16, 1978.  And it was good.  And it was very good.