Separate and Different

Today I'm caught between my two lives.

Yesterday N. and I completed the 30 mile Tour de Feed benefiting the local food bank. It is an excellent example of what is so great about our relationship. We share so much in common and enjoy doing so much together. It's not fair to compare my two lives, they are separate and different. That being said, I am more content now than I ever have been.

But I never would have been ready for and open to this new life if not for the experiences of my past life.

Two years ago today, I awoke and slid quietly out of bed to walk the dogs, being careful not to awaken L. My mother had arrived in town the night before and L. always went out of her way to prepare the house for her arrival. So I was neither surprised nor concerned when she fell asleep early and was still sleeping when I woke up before dawn.

As I walked the dogs I started to get this nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right with the way she was lying in the bed. I hurried the dogs about their business; at this point it was just a silly sensation anyway. When I saw her again the suspicion quickly turned to dread. She was still in the same position as when I slid out of bed. Normally she would stir a little, roll over, shift, do something. I gave her a gentle nudge, my biggest concern being how stiff she would feel when she woke up from having slept in the same position for so long.

I knew immediately she was gone the moment I touched her. I shook her to wake her, knowing in my heart that wasn't going to happen. The entire morning is basically a blur to me, but I will never forget the image of her face as I rolled her over: cold, gray and stiff. That image is as fresh in my memory as if it were a snapshot that I pulled out and studied every day for the past two years. I can't remember more than bits and pieces of the rest of the morning and couldn't put them in any semblance of order: futile resuscitation attempts, paramedics, firemen, police officers, the coroner. I was numb and lost. At some point the numbness wore off and I became certain that no one anywhere, ever had suffered this kind of pain and loss. In my head I knew this wasn't the case, but my head could not convince my heart differently.

Two years later, my heart has healed. Not completely, but fully. I will always miss L and I will always love her. My heart aches that I could neither fix her, nor be what she needed me to be. I am comforted in knowing that for the most part I was what she wanted me to be and that I gave her a level of happiness she hadn't been able to find previously in her life. I know that she loved me and I'm more certain now that she knew that I loved her.

So today. Today I take some time to focus on the past rather than the present and future. I hold tight to a love and life lost, recognizing that with each passing year the memories will fade ever so slightly and the pain will continue to dull and ebb away.

L,

I love you, I miss you, and I wish you peace.

C.