GONE

It finally hit. I knew it would. Like a swift settling fog off the lake. It blurred my soul’s vision. Her absence. The fullness of her being missing. Fading from view. Disappearing. Melting away. She was gone.

She had died on October 15^th, 2013. 1/3 of a year ago. For a few months I remained pretty much numb. In professional mode. Relieved to no longer witness her pain or the vanishing of her sweet quick witted spirit. I blissfully wore the shroud of freedom. Unafraid to claim the calm newly created. I sought to restore my own soul. I daily reminded myself that these final five years of caregiving were indeed withering.

I found myself entertaining all kinds of desires. Art workshops and writing sabbaticals. Renewing old friendships. Spending time without worrying about what I was failing to do. The shrinking of my guilt. The desire to exercise my body, my soul, the crafts of writing and watercolors. I wanted a full life again. I yearned for the abundant life offered by Christ in Scripture.

Then, out of nowhere, out of everywhere, it hit. Patty was gone. None of what I wished or wanted or longed for could be shared with her. She had made most things better, brighter, and much more fun. She was once such a positive force. An advocate. A fan. A support team in one. She saw the best and me, and often managed to bring it out for show and tell. Spiritually, she was my buddy.

We were never soul mates. Her soul was simple, and black and white, and defiantly religious. She had focused principles and tiny dreams. Her spirit required answers and solid ground. She was a good listener, and a great follower.

I, on the other hand, am complex. I am seldom if ever religious. My dreams are gargantuan. My ambition could stretch the sky. I am bloated with questions, but sound like I have all the answers. I like to lead. I like to be in control. I am an elitist with a touch of humility.

Now…she is gone. The hole is deep. She is like Hawking’s black hole. A place of absence which still speaks of a once shining presence. The light is gone, but the stories, the echoes of her love and forgiveness, her messages of mercy, they all chatter merrily on. To fall into that hole, will ultimately consume me eternally.

Gone. Not fishing or for lunch. Not out or away. Just plain gone. A memory now. A once upon a time. A remembrance. Gone and almost forgotten – to be honest. Just bits and pieces remain. Few whole scenes or conversations. Just shards of glass from the pane which once allowed me the best view of my life.

Gone. A paper cut across the soul. A puncture wound. I am still stunned by its severity and demand for space. I will have to invite it inside. Play host to this beautiful beast. Serve it tears and tea. Pretend to want to see it again real soon.

Gone. This scorching knowing will be back now. Often. Framing many days in an oil black mat. Bringing out the light and brilliance and perspective of my being. Just as it did when it was here and now, and carried the name Patty.

Gone. There is no word quite so sad. So dripping in loneliness. So highly polished by the wisdom of loss.

Gone. The one word we all wish we never had to speak or hear. The one word in our lives upon which all other words precariously rest.