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Dying Doesn't Mean You've Left Me ... You're Just a Bit Ahead in Our Mutual Journey

Updated on December 9, 2011

Next stop ... home

Darling, these weeks since your death have been a whirlwind of activity. The practical matters to take care of have been a blessing in a way. They have prevented me from curling up into a ball and crying my eyes out for hours. In fact, the thought of lying there clutching my heart and writhing in sorrow—not even noticing what's going on around me—hasn't even been an option. Perhaps that's why we have visitations and wakes and funerals. They draw the outer circle of family and friends into our inner circle ... into our very core of being.

You died on November 9th, and now it is December 8th. Has it been that long already? Barely a month, and already I'm reflecting instead of experiencing? I'm reflecting on your death, but not experiencing it fresh and raw as if it just happened. Is that a sign of healing? Or is that a sign of a human heart that has relived your death too many times and can no longer tolerate the pain?

The other night, I finally had my "big cry." You know, the one where you know that reality has won, reality rules ... reality is. Yeah, well, that sucked big ones. It drew in all of those self-pitying questions like, "Why me? Why him? Why did he have to go? Why did our beautiful love have to end?"

The answers that came to me surprised me. The answers came in droves, and I knew in my heart that they were the real answers and the ones I needed to listen to. They were not the ones I wanted to hear, but the answers that you always taught me to listen to ... the ones that didn't always make sense in our physical world, but made a whole lot of sense in the big scheme of things.

You always were a spiritual person, but not in a religious way. You believed in our higher power ... you called Him God ... and you lived your life accordingly. But you did not believe in a vindictive or punishing power. You believed in God, who accepted and loved us for exactly who we were and would eventually return us to His home.

You are just one step ahead of me in that journey back to God, my love. While I often feel frightened and alone and unsure of what to do, I know deep in my heart that I still have a mission to fulfill. God gave each of us our lives, and He has a plan for both of us. It is not up to me to question my purpose ... only to fulfill it. And it was never up to me to question yours or why you had to go ahead of me. I accept that it was meant to be, and I will forever be grateful that God granted you to me for as long as He did.

You're just a bit ahead of me in our mutual journey, my love. You just hopped on the train a bit earlier than I did, but I know we'll meet again at our mutual destination. Just like you taught me to never be afraid of getting lost on the subway, I will never doubt my eventual destiny to be with you.

You made my path easy. You made it real. You made it you.

One cream, no sugar in my coffee at that station stop, hon. I know you'll remember. :)

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    • Marjatta profile image
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      Marjatta 5 years ago

      Thank you, rjsadowski. Yes, writing helps put into words the often jumbled up feelings inside our hearts. And loss, while a part of life, seems to be such a cruel part of it sometimes. The only thing that keeps me going is faith and the belief that it will all make sense some day. Again, thank you for your kind words. :)

    • rjsadowski profile image

      rjsadowski 5 years ago

      A great hub. Death makes you think. We all have to cope with the loss of a loved one any way that we can. Often, writing about our loss helps with the grieving process. I am almost 73, and I have lost many friends, family members and even pets who were like my children. I write love poems and sad stories about them and it helps to ease the pain.