Today is the third Monday since you left.
My chest involuntarily tightens as my jaw clenches shut tightly, bracing for the wave of emotions to come. You were just here. Right here by my side, eyes partially shut, with your hand inside of mine. You were just lying next to me in the same room while we sat and waited for you to go. For 4 hours I sat next to you, knowing that they’d be your last.
Three Mondays ago I was looking at you through the blurred lenses of tearful eyes. I was just watching you breathe… and then I watched you stop. I watched you take your last breath and I watched what I believe to be your soul depart. The physical transition between living and not was so quick that it made me curious. I looked around the room thinking that if I did so with intention, I’d see some spiritual form of your being right next to me.
Instead, I saw what appeared to be two hawks right outside of your room window. They quickly circled around one another mid-flight, as if they knew one another. The same way mama’s birds, Sage & JJ, would tussle when we let them out of their cages at the same time. It looked like the same freedom, the ability to now roam with no restraint. And my heart smiled at the symbolic moment, thinking that it was how you and Shar reunited once again. And then they left.
… just like you.
Although the sadness is incredibly heavy. So so heavy, I know that God is holding me. There’s not any other explanation for my willingness to choose to keep moving through the grief with grace. To keep choosing to press inward instead of running away. To sit with the process and become one with it instead of pushing it down, creating emotional traumas to be uncovered later down the road.
To be able to sit in the spaces where you used to be, with a heavy heart, and smile is a gift. Even when it’s hard, I’m still hopeful. For many things to come, to experience, and to grieve. The sorrow is not a linear path, but circular. Life is dance, one that has a never-ending soundtrack.
Welcoming this new reality wasn’t one that I planned to embrace so soon but it has unlocked a new level of faith I wouldn’t have had without it. I’m so sure… so so sure in God’s presence. I’m not so humanly sure as to why the pain has to accompany it. But this I do know, is that there’s beauty to be found while down in the trenches… only if you’re willing to look for it.
Today is three Mondays removed.. and I have a set count that lies ahead. Until that last Monday comes, I’ll spend every day remembering how much joy, love, laughter, and comfort your life brought me. And while I remember, I’ll seek and find the highs in this life and experience my days to the fullest, as vibrantly as I can until Jesus calls me home.