The Day Has Come Again

October 13th has dawned a beautiful autumn day here in Muskoka. The sunlight dances on the coloured leaves and nature is putting up a glorious show of orange and red and gold. I spent part of the morning setting up for our evening Harvest Dinner here at the church. Life rolls on, except my heart is heavy and my mind wanders to a year ago today when I gave my last kiss to the man who companioned me for 30 years.

Grief is heavy no matter the amount of time that has passed. I remember every detail of that day one year ago. Sometimes people say time eases the pain. No, the pain is still as sharp as it was that first moment that his breath stopped but life does grows bigger around the pain. Jan Richardson says, in her book, The Cure for Sorrow – A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief “Grief is the least linear thing I know. Hardly a tidy progression of stages, grief tends to be unruly … It spirals us back through layers of sorrow we thought we had dealt with.” So true. Some days I move with confidence and ease and other days I am triggered by the slightest thing and I long to feel his touch. I am writing and I hear his voice say my name. I wake and hear his gentle snore only to see again that he is not there. In my memory I taste the soft skin at this neck and I am awash with tears and longing.

In one of her blessings Jan Richardson urges, “Do not pass by the opportunity to lament what is forever gone from here. It is an honouring of what has been.” And so today, while life goes on I lament and know sorrow and feel grief and honour my beloved. But I know that I hold in my heart the memory of a man who was exceedingly practical and realistic. He was a scientist who dealt with life head on. I suspect he might be impatient with my mourning were he observing it. He said once, “I don’t live with ghosts. Life goes on.” And so I do.

On this anniversary day I offer you a poem. It says something of how I spend this day and live my life…

Turn Again To Life
If I should die and leave you here awhile,
Be not like others, sore undone, who keep
Long vigils by the silent dust, and weep.
For my sake – turn again to life and smile,
Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do
Something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine
And I, perchance, may therein comfort you.
by Mary Lee Hall