I did not realize how much I did. It is true. I need you. God I really need you.
I have lost some decent friends to death in the last three years. Life is not easy.
As I rewind I know I need you. Starting over like the seasons do year after year, I am left alone knowing my story is so intertwined with you. It is a beautiful tapestry of love.
My autistic son getting ready for a big splash!
I came home from a funeral today and while watering my plants, I sense your presence. Its from the gush of the water in my hose startled, I hold on and start spraying my flowers. I think about my autistic son jumping in the lake and I sense your presence.
Water brings life. It is interesting when we are in the desert of life, we may be numb to pain. When we are touched by rain, we wake up. I know I have. In the desert- I felt alone. When watering and being rained on, I bow my head and wondered why I could ever think of not needing you.
“Yeah.” The flowers helped me concentrate on something else. Her death was heavy. His perspective was ..”death is final. That’s it.” I didn’t see it that way.
The curtains to the “other” side was torn down for her. Windows were opened when she took her last breath. My view is my friend’s death was a setting free. Not an end, but a new beginning.
There is no forgetting her. Family will not. Nor will friends. Nature will keep her alive in my mind. My concentration is on God’s natural beauty while I remember. Released from the earthly pain, I catch my breath.
Today is all I have and will make it count. Ready for a day for God to show me the sun as I walk and smell the roses for her.
I am now talked about in scattered ways. A true story whispered across the table about the break up. It is being alone that is not spoken of. Instead it is the sustaining half-truths played out by those who do not know.
Some of my life is well worn in my mind like coming out of anesthesia. You feel distance yet you know you are in the same room. “Help me!” I said struggling with pain during one surgery two years ago. “Oh, honey, I have some medicine and I am putting it in your IV now.”
Suddenly you wake up more and do not say a thing at all. You know you need that nurse to help you and he does. He knows exactly the right medicine to administer. You drift back off to sleep.
Hi. My name is Alesia. That pain is not so bad anymore. Two years have gone by and I am now experiencing a whole new kind of pain. A kind I did not expect. It is the end of an almost 23 year relationship. My partner in life has made a choice to move on. I still do not know if the move is permanent. It is what it is for now. The details are not worth the read, but it is the cracks in it that are compelling.
Choosing to not dwell on the details, it seems better to talk about my state my mind and the emotional impact of this loss. With the Christmas season especially, I am reminded of not only my hurt, but also the suffering of many of you. If you sat at home alone on Christmas knowing the season should be enjoyed with others-the harsh reminder of the heartache is painful.
But, tonight as the Christmas day comes to an end, it is hope I would want to bring you. Know you are not alone. I know your pain, but there is always hope. Tomorrow is a new day. God has promised us this through His Story that came through the birth of a baby called the Christ-Child. It is a hope worth pursuing.
Again, do not give up. Life is worth living. Think about the things you love. For me it is fresh flowers, birds in my backyard, watching a great movie, or listening to beautiful music. Life is also about touching others, being touched, and feeling loved. Sweet friendships that are rekindled or perhaps even ambiguous loss of love that gets rejuvenated awaits you and perhaps me one again.
Life is hard. Do not give up. Anesthesia may have worn off, but hope is always attainable.