I had a thought about what to write tonight. Something bouncing around, looking for a way out. But sometimes the words form shadows but never really take form. It has something to do with finding out who I am without her, so in an effort to find those ever elusive words, I’ll just start slinging some down. I love to observe the world, listening to conversations, watching faces and interactions…often stepping outside of myself and being the student of human behavior. With Mel, I could step out and watch, then back in and be “us”….Melanie and T. R., or the other way around if you like but always both. In crowds or get togethers, Mel was the social one and I was the observer. Now, I step out and watch, but where do I come back? People have said they can’t imagine losing their wife or husband. Well, it’s like losing your identity, or part of yourself. After a while the grief gets a little less intense, and you can look at pictures and laugh about memories, and still cry, but you think you’ll make it anyway. Then, you suddenly realize that the life you built is gone. The retirement you planned, the future you imagined, and the family you envisioned are just faded imaginations. (I hate to keep reaching for the right words and have them slip by like those little gnats you grab at but never catch.) But, somehow in the midst of it all, the death, the funeral, and the aftermath, you lose so much of what you believed was the bottom floor. Only, after it’s gone you look down and see something else. The basement? No, more like the foundation. It’s the place where you are only you. There are no other folks to watch or listen to, just you. It’s deep in your heart, deep in your soul, and with no way to pretend. It’s that place you have to be real with yourself, because there is no one else to fool. (Since these words have taken us here, let’s keep going) because in this place there is always room for only one other, His name is Jesus and He knocks at the door…the very bottom door of who you really are with no one else around. A lot of my world fell out from under me, but the truth is the strength of my world never could; it is built on something deeper down. (Now back to the beginning of this little mess of words), I am not sure who I am without her, not just yet, but I can safely say that the only place I can look to from the very bottom is up.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Jun 2013 02:06:35 +0000
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