On This Day

On this day 43 years ago I married a man that I fully intended to spend the rest of my life with.  That didn't happen but I did find a friend for life.  With divorce came  a different awareness of this date and I began to dread it.  And then I met people who also married their best friend on September 25th.  I could then anticipate it with a lightness in my heart.  Now with the passing of my lifelong friend I can recall all the happiness that this day held for us 43 years ago.  I remember the joy, the good times, the babies that came and added to our family.  I remember the smiles, the laughter, the trips together, the journey.  That is all that this life is, a journey.  Along the way we are confronted with challenges and joys alike.  And hopefully in the end we can look back and say, "That was good."

Once Again Brought to Tears

I had gone a few days and was feeling like I was doing OK with the loss of Ralph and what it means going forward.  It turns out that maybe I was just distracted.  As I read a quote of Cokie Roberts today, the tears immediately flooded every thought from my head.  When it happens, I can't seem to process where they come from or what they mean.  I'm not much of a cryer so this has shook me to my core. 

Cokie Roberts hit me in the heart today.  At first I thought the tears were because she had also just passed away but it was much more than that.  She was speaking of the loss of her sister.  I have often thought that the loss of an ex-spouse who has remained a friend is similar to the loss of a sibling.  You have lost the only person who shared that part of your life.  The person who was there in those decades is now gone and there is no one who can truly understand the you who you were.  Nobody "gets" the jokes or the struggles.  Only you.  And you are left in the silence.  Here are her words:   "The main impact is just the loss, the incredible loss.  The expectations just were gone.  The old age that I expected is different.  It never occurred to me that she wouldn't be in the next rocker..." 
She nailed it.  It's the loss, the incredible loss.  I never expected that Ralph would be gone so soon.  That we would never go to dinner again or laugh together at the kids or grandkids again. That never again would he be with us at Thanksgiving dinner or Easter brunch.  Over.  Done.  Just like that.  There would be no retirement bridge games or trips or volunteer work for him.  There would be no "Isn't retirement great?" lunches.  No anything. 

My heart rips open and when I analyze it, it is just this immense void; a void that I always feel like I'm teetering on.  The void that he fell into and I fear  that it will also swallow me.  Not that I will die but that I will choose the darkness, the sadness over what remains in life.  The tears come and I feel paralyzed.  The step that I was in the midst of falls back to the floor.  And in that moment, I feel nothing but regret.  What would I have done if I'd known?  But I didn't.  We can only live life based on what we know, what we feel, and what we think.  We all did what we thought was right.  In the end no one had the power to avert the events that were unfolding before us.  I know that.  But it doesn't change the sadness that is always a step away.  It's the loss, the incredible loss. 

Just Show Up

This past weekend my children said their final good-byes to their father.  It was both beautiful and awful.  But through it all, there was a phrase that I repeated over and over again to myself and to anyone who would listen.  Just show up!

Grief leaves a gigantic hole in your heart and your life.  It cannot be filled and all you know for sure is that your life, as you knew it, no longer exists.  There are no words or cards or flowers that will ease the suffering.  What matters is that someone came and sat with you in your pain, they stood beside you so you could remain upright and then held out their arms to hold you up as they whispered in your ear, "I've got you," when you could no longer do it yourself.

I was deeply touched by all the people who just showed up to stand beside this family in pain.  They came from his early years, from the liquor store era and of course from his life as an educator.  I saw people who  crossed our paths 30 and 40 years ago and I saw people who entered his life only months ago.  And they all came for the right reason; to say thank you to a man who changed the course of their life, to sit beside those he left behind, and to find solace in the fact that they were not alone in their grief.  But I was most moved by those who came from southern California or Sacramento not to mourn Ralph but to support us so that we could, surrounded by their loving arms  Others came from south San Jose and the central valley to attest to a shared life raising kids and trying to get it right.  They came from long ago memories of babies and schedules and work.  Together, we laughed, we cried, we celebrated this man who touched so many.  And when it was over, my children somehow had the strength to take the next step forward into this unknown existence of life after death,  But it was only because they were righted by those who took the time to just show up.

These three words have become my mantra.  It is a rule to live by not only at funerals but in life.  It takes courage but it is all that can ever be asked of us.  For in the end, that is the greatest act of love.  Showing up, being present, saying I choose to be here beside you.

Leaving Nothing Undone

If there is anything that helps you realize that you as a grandmother are now the supposed wise one and approaching matriarch status, it is being involved in the final repose of the grandfather.  Although Ralph and I were divorced, we remained friends, so it was only natural that my children call upon me to assist in any way I could.  My big take away was, and if I hadn't gotten it myself, my kids repeated it over and over again, do whatever you can NOW to make this process easier on us when you pass.  I took their words to heart.  I am now the proud owner of not only a prepaid cremation - I actually did that last year - but an "In the Event of my Death" document that contains a list of contacts, account numbers with user names and passwords, the obituary, my wishes for cremation, memorial service, including readings and songs as well as a memorial slideshow.  It was not difficult but it did take some time.  Now looking back on it, I would recommend it for everyone, especially those of us who like to plan out minute details of our life.  It was important to me that the words I leave behind in poetry and song be authentic to how I lived my life and how I want them to send me forth.  Likewise the photos I selected were of me and people that have mattered, not just today, but at the time the photo was taken.  So people who are no longer part of my being are represented as well.  I chose  pictures that not only show the posed shots but also the "what is that face."  Those are actually some of my favorites.  My favorite part of the process was looking at pictures side by side of the 10 year-old Tere and 65 year-old me.  What would the me today say to that young girl who was so worried about life and where it was taking her?  She would say exactly what will go on her prayer card at her death:

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.

Henry David Thoreau