August 2, 2012

  • steps

    When I look outside, the sky is an unnatural shade.  It’s Kodachrome blue with startlingly white clouds.  Odd for this time of year, when a low haze hovers, gray and thin. 

    “A promise of a new day?” Devil me laughs.  I guffaw, because last night was haunted by dreams.  D didn’t appear, but others did.  I woke up at 4:00 am, crying and confused.  The nightmares disappeared like smoke.  I woke up restless and disturbed. 

    Prayer didn’t help.  I still add my own prayers to the list, but I pray for others first.  A childhood friend is dying and has been moved to Hospice.  The sorrow I feel overshadows the promise of her release from pain and her passage to heaven.  It’s unnatural to think of people my age dying.  Hits too close to home.  Fortunately, she lives far away, and I don’t have to carry my gray mood in to face her.  She’s never married or had children.  Her career and life have been simple, but satisfying for her.  Her faith is unwavering, and when she leaves this life, she’ll leave no dependents.  She will leave family and friends who loved her dearly…that tiny girl, who never grew taller than 4 ft tall, but who was exquisitely proportionate, with a brilliant smile and an infectious laugh.  I know that she delighted everyone who knew her.  I always thought she would have been a wonderful mother, especially if she had sons.  Her life took a different course, but was still filled with joy and love. 

    “Does it bother you that she’s leaving this life, or does it bother you more to think of the emptiness she leaves behind?” Angel me asks.  I shake my head, “It bothers me that she’s in pain, that she’s so ill at such a young age.  She never lived an unwholesome life.  Do the pious always leave this life early?”

    It’s not a question really.  I don’t feel like I’ve been a perfect or pious being.  There have been times that I was selfish, jealous, self serving.  I’ve tempered my faults by always defending the weak, the infirm, by faithfully helping even those who were my enemies.  My sins were small.  Still, they exist, marring my perfection….

    “And making you ‘real’,” Devil me continues my thought, “You always worried about that, but you were always real.  You were never invisible.  You always thought you were.  You only were invisible to yourself.”

    Reflecting on the short life of a friend leaves me melancholy, but I don’t ‘feel’ it like I would expect.  It’s a dull pain, blunt and soft.  Tears prick at my eyes and then back off, like restless beings who are unsure if they want to escape.  There is no doubt in my mind that she will fly to heaven, and the promise of a pain-free afterlife in paradise is a comforting thought. 

    “Your pain….” a voice speaks, but I can’t identify it.  Angel me looks puzzled.  Devil me looks at me quizzically, shaking her head.  “My pain,” I address them since I’m not certain who has spoken, “is of no consequence at the moment.”  It’s true.  I’m too busy at work to worry about my pain.  I prefer to sweep it under the rug.  Crying will do me no good.  I will myself not to miss D.  He’s made no attempt to contact me. 

    This time it’s got to be over.

    When my mind wanders to those good times that I shared with D, I gently lead myself away, “He loves L, not you.”  I’ve stopped asking myself why.  I don’t visit old emails or entertain those love scenes.  I’ve willed myself to forget how it felt to kiss him.  I’ve forgotten how comforting it was to be held close.  I’ve willed myself to forget his touch, his voice.  Not completely gone, but the colors aren’t as vivid.

    I’m a different me.  Stronger, more confident, still beautiful…..and curiously empty.

     

     

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