Grief in the Museum
Productivity

Happy Valentines Day, everyone!

This post is meant to bring encouragement to those who may be concerned about their loved one’s ill health at the moment. There sure seems to be a lot of that going around…guess there always has, but it still hurts. The fear of losing someone you love while you watch them suffer is awful. It’s also awful to lose someone you love by surprise, when you maybe didn’t have a chance to say goodbye, so sudden was the event. And yet  the love you have for that person remains.  I want to tell you not to be afraid that that love will be gone forever, even though the person of your beloved may be.  It stays in your heart and it stays around you…hopefully for a long long time (I can’t say how long yet, it’s only been short of six months for me.) Love is a powerful thing when it is alive, but it’s surprisingly powerful afterward too. And it can manifest in the most unexpected little ways, just when you need it too. For all I know, I’m making this up, but that doesn’t make it less real to me.

Here is an example. This morning, I found myself a little sad about Vernon. I thought of his big brown trusting eyes as I looked at this picture. 13323395_10153736793691491_6625370838077814010_o

I remembered how he responded so well when I finally found those old love letters last year. I can’t bring myself to read them again yet, but I know where they are when I’m ready. It’s also Valentine’s day, and I hadn’t expected to get choked up over that. Maybe not expecting it was the problem because Grief ambushed me again, and I cried for missing him, in all his versions that I’d loved.

And then, I looked down at my phone and it was open to this screen. I must have been fiddling absently with my contacts in order for this to come up.  I didn’t even know I had this as a contact.—he must have punched this in years ago as a test.
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Not sure I can reach you at this number or address, but Happy Valentine’s Day back at you from Earth, Honey. ❤️💔❤️

I don’t know if the Love that sticks around like this will continue to surprise me in notes and letters like this. I’m always shocked to find something of him I still haven’t seen.  I always wonder if the early days of bereavement are like a balloon gently losing air—or more appropriately, a lung slowing down. I’ve only come this far, but others tell me they experience the phenomenon through the rest of their lives. I believe them. At any rate, there will always be pigeons. 

This is for all our Valentines, those still with us and those who have gone ahead.

 

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Grief in the Museum
Productivity