Firsts – A new start - characterised not by absence but by surrounding presence 20200211

Firsts – A new start - characterised not by absence but by surrounding presence 20200211

Two chairs sit on a familiar, loved rug 
they mark my first step towards inhabiting this new but anticipated space … 
this waiting-to-become-‘home’ space.

I look at the photo I took … somewhat blurred by the hands shaking with the joy of the moment … 
and for the first time 
my heart does not ache with the pain of your absence. 
I do not see the two chairs as another sign that I am somehow incomplete … 
or that a more appropriate setting would be one chair, 
marking this inexplicable place so many refer to (unhelpfully) as ‘widower’. 

I look at the photo 
remembering the bubbling delight as I arranged the rug and chairs, 
and I hear a still, small voice in my spirit whispering gently …
“One chair is not a descriptor of who or where you are!”
And again: 
“Two chairs speaks to what was, and is, and what will be!”

Slowly, 
oh so slowly 
the unimagined dawns in my slow moving heart … 
Ciddy … 
beautiful teacher and mentor, 
lover and life-partner, 
mother, nanny and Niney, 
my dearest friend 
and SO much more for so many more … 
Your death is becoming characterised not by absence but by surrounding presence, 
presence unbound, 
Presence set free from just the places and settings, 
people and events we shared … 
NOT removed from me emotionally, deep in my memories, spirit and heart …
but mysteriously extended, 
overflowing into an unexpected, 
undreamt, 
unimaginable, 
and impossible-to-self-create reality of almost indescribable peace.

In my wildest imagining and amid my deepest fears, 
in all the hopes and encouragements shared with me (sought and unsought),
there was not one hint of such a possibility. 
Part of me has always been fearful that the only way forward
is living in that duality of the continued presence and heart memory of the “us”, 
in conflict with 
and forever distinct from 
any sense of guilt-free joy 
and delight in newness 
in people and circumstance (so called) 
as gifts of grace. 


Ciddy, beloved, 
wise-woman … 
you knew that somehow this is not so … 
it is a false and constricting reality … 
and you typically used the words of another to express what was deep in your own DNA:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. 

Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.                                     (Kahlil Gibran – The Prophet)

And so, as was appositely stated in another place in the face of another death and journey in grief, “Another page in the grief/widower handbook thrown off the balcony!”

I have no sense of where this leads.
It is not mystery explained, 
rather it feels like another crossroad,
a place at which there is choice to trust (again) … 
Is this the Spirit speaking to my spirit, 
or the grieving heart seeking after relief 
from its pain 
and solace 
in the face or unseen and unheard collisions of memory, place, people, and loss?

But right now … 
in the light of day and memories of yesterday … 
it feels like sorrow unmasked, 
another gift of grace from a God who knows loss, grieving and redemption from them.
For that, 
praise and thanks to God 
and those given to me in life and relationships who make it so. 
For now … I am content!
                                                                                                            ©️amf-20200211

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