It’s been years now; twenty-one to be exact, since I was shocked into the realization that you had decided to leave. You left! Done. Over. Your “Life” would breathe no more. Your “Life”, finished.
I screamed, “NO!” I sobbed and, through the tears, I raced…raced to grab your girls. Raced to hold them, to let them know that I was still here. I didn’t want to let them go. But “Life” moves on.
People wanted to talk. People needed me to answer questions. People wanted to cry with me. In my head, I’m thinking that they also wanted to judge me. “This is your fault!” But instead, I heard people say “I should have known.” “I should have seen the signs.” “I should have reached out.” “He called me yesterday and I didn’t have time to talk. I should have taken the time.”
Time passes. “Life” goes on. Events happen that you should have been present for. Your girls graduated from high school. They went on to college. You were not there to help them choose career paths. They, each, spent a semester in London. I worried for both of us for their safe travels and returns. You were not there for their college graduations either, or to help encourage them through job interviews, or to move them time and again from apartment after apartment and finally to real homes. I walked both of your daughters down the aisle on their wedding days and you missed the birth of your first grand child.
You missed it all…or did you?
Twenty-one years have passed since you left. You didn’t even say “Good-bye.” Everyone has a “Life” journey. Were you supposed to end your’s at that moment? Were you supposed to just disappear? You know, your choice changed our “Life”. Your decision changed our journey. You know, we still remember you. We still grieve your choice to leave this “Life” behind.
Yet, out of the darkness, your girls have grown strong, supportive, resilient. Out of the darkness, we still hold each other tight. We want to believe that you have been there still. Out of the darkness, we, now, see you in a different kind of “Life”. We think it was you who kept them safe in London, helped them find great jobs, made sure that the sun shined bright on their wedding days. And it is you, now, who watches over your grandson. who is the joy in all of our lives.
Out of the darkness, we know you are there and we love you…still.