Our neighbor died a few minutes ago...at home, in his own bed. It was after a 2 year battle with cancer, but sad none the less. He wasn't old - but I realize that's relative to my own age...His wife's vocal cords are paralyzed from a stoke some years ago. She is able to speak by way of a tracheotomy. If she puts her finger over the hole, she can speak. When I hugged her, I could feel she was sobbing - but there was no sound. Quiet anguish of grief. It broke my heart for her. She will be so lonely.
And it's the first holiday season after a friend has lost her dad. I hope it can be filled with thankfulness to have had him at all...but I know he will be missed. I'll miss him!
And it's the third holiday season for another who is without her soul mate. It still doesn't always seem real that he is gone...but there are frequent reminders that he is. And frequent reminders that he had such a wonderful impact here...
Lots of sad things - the side of death that is joyful to me, is what I call the "sweet spot of mourning"...somehow, in great grief and tragedy, the 'things of earth will grow strangely dim..." and to me they do. The mundane things and irritations fade into a blur in the distance, like having Vaseline on your eyes - and then, how to come along side - how to help, comes into focus. And reflections abound - ones that bring to the front, the privilege of knowing another person - of having interacted and been a part of their life. It's a sweet spot that I sometimes I wish I lived in all the time, in spite of the sadness of losses.
And I may say that, out of ignorance - not realizing the full depth of loosing someone you love.
Happy Thanksgiving? Yes, but in sort of a somber way...difficult to really express, but it is NOT a bad thing. As I grow older, all the perspectives change. Holidays have a very different joy than when I was 10, or 30, or even 50. I like this part of growing older!
I will miss my dad. It was always our favorite holiday. He did all the cooking and did it well. Like most of us - the way we grew up is THE way to do it. Major on the majors, minor on the minors. As we transferred to having Thanksgiving at our house, so did most of the cooking. But in his usual wonderful way, he taught me well. I will drink in the smells and sounds and tastes on Thursday, sad, that he isn't coming over, but bursting with that sweet spot of mourning, that I was fortunate to have ever had him at all....
It's beautiful, looking at the leaves outside, and the wind throwing them around. A different season is here, marching toward another season, another chapter, another year...blah blah blah. How many times have read THAT! But it's magnificent anyway...
