June 17th is the birth day of a dear friend of mine. April 17th was the day of his death. I've see-sawed between the depths of sadness, and moments of joy. I've thought I was okay, only to burst into tears. I've spiraled down to the depths of a depression, and made my way back up to the surface.
At times I've treaded life's water until I was exhausted. I've had to make some pretty challenging decisions over the last half of the year, and there are still a few to make. And on June 17th, while mourning the absence of my friend, I discovered a rare and precious gift.
It was a day with the girls, and we spent most of it at the outlets. I knew it was going to be an interesting day when the reminder that it was R's birthday popped up on my screen, and I burst into tears.
It wasn't the first time I would shed a few. Cardinals (a bird my daughter told me would let us know that R was okay) were every where in the stores. I was late meeting up with the girls for lunch, as the sadness overwhelmed me. My appetite was not there, but I ate something to keep my blood sugar up, and we pressed on.
At dinner, I could feel it again. I was emotionally warn, and didn't want to burden the three lovely friends that were with me. When my dinner arrived, and it just wasn't very good, I closed my eyes and hoped they'd think I was just tired. But they new better.
When I returned from a bathroom break, they told me to sit down, and then, they did something amazing. They asked me what I needed. And when I told them I didn't know, they said that was okay, that they were there for me.
Eventually I confessed that I really wanted to be on the beach at night, standing in front of the waves, and honor my friend in some way. And so, we drove down the road a bit, hopped out of the car in the freezing cold, and trekked onto the sandy beach. We gathered together, sang songs, laughed, and huddled to stay warm.
And then, they asked me, what would I say to someone who was hurting as I was? What would I say to another? And I broke down. Because I have always been there for others, yet never really been there for me. And here, were 3 of my dearest friends encouraging me to nurture myself in ways that I've nurtured them. And all I could do was cry.
So there we stood, upon the shore, as I cried and they held me. And my one friend asked R to reach through her to me. (R practiced reiki.) And I know exactly the moment, because I felt the energy, and I felt my body relax as she held my hands. And it was one of the most powerful moments I've ever experienced.
Before we left, we stood watching the waves. I'd been enthralled by the waves since my arrival, and my friend C reminded me of this, and then asked me to think of what the word wave meant. And that maybe, just maybe, this was R's way of waving to me. I'd seen the cardinals. I'd shed the tears, and now, when I look at the waves, I can't help but wonder if he was waving to me.
I also wondered if R ever liked the beach. It would be a few days later when I discovered he used to work at a beach, selling umbrellas. Goosebumps, I tell you.
One thing is certain, I'll not look at them in the same way. And when I see waves, I now want to wave back. They say that salt water heals all things - via sweat, tears, and the sea. You know, I think there's something to that.
No comments:
Post a Comment