There is a first time for everything…. and a second time for most things. Each day the face of this new journey (my family is on) makes itself known. Popping up in the most familiar places staring nakedly while a wave of emotion rolls over us…
My Mother opens the closet that she has opened many times before, but this time, my father's clothes seem awkwardly different. The mail comes in with my father's name on it front and center knocking my mother off her feet. My brother looks up a name on his cell phone, and my father's name appears… he wonders if he should erase it, but he cannot and becomes sad thinking about it. I hear a Harley running down the road, I look up, and tears roll down. My mother folds clothes finding a pair of my father's socks and sobs into them…
There is a second time for the familiar things in our lives to come back and address us anew. We stare, catch our breath, and hold on with the knowledge that many others are and have walked this way before.
As a friend of my mother said, "When those "first times come around" and they will for a long time to come, whatever you feel, let it be without holding back. If you want to cry, cry. If you are angry, be angry. Whatever feeling overtakes you, let it be."
Do you think by allowing our feelings to take place, we welcome the slow change to our broken hearts and not succumb to blurry numbers? Though I must sometimes admit that numbness seems like a welcoming path?
The first steps of this well-worn path yet newly discovered… I think I'll hold on to those of you who have walked this way before.
Leave a Reply